


Walking Out of the Still Life

by Pbroken



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Artist Edward, Dirty Talk, Excellent plot twist, F/M, One of My Favorites, Orphan Bella, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:33:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 106,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26434231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pbroken/pseuds/Pbroken
Summary: Bella drifts through life alone, keeping everyone at a distance. Edward breathes only for his girl, the one he can't stop dreaming about and painting. When a chance encounter forces them to stop existing and start living, will life prove to be too hard? AU/AH Dirty Edward Reviews are greatly appreciated
Relationships: Edward Cullen/Bella Swan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	1. Prologue: Perspective

**Prologue**

**Perspective**

"Your living is determined not so much by what life brings to you as by the attitude you bring to life; not so much by what happens to you as by the way your mind looks at what happens."~ Khalil Gibran

**APOV (Alice)**

It's strange what people can get used to when their homeless long enough. In a situation where the feeling of an empty belly is nothing new and the comfort of a warm bed is a great luxury, it can be hard to find anything worthwhile. Some can't handle the constant hunger, some can't deal with the cold, and some are just too drunk to care, but one of two things happens when you're thrown out onto the streets, you die, or you learn to live. I'm just happy to find myself in the latter category.

As I dig through my fourth garbage can in the park, trying to scrounge up something for my aching stomach, I watch the sunrise in the east. It's glorious to look at and even more spectacular when it shines on my bare arms. Nothing in the world could possibly feel more wonderful. Not after the long night I had under the bridge with only a newspaper to cover myself.

"Yes!" I cry out as I discover a plaid shirt buried underneath empty take out containers, apple cores, and other things I would rather not think of.

It's ripped in several places, not exactly designer threads, but I'm happy for the discovery. I stumble upon a plastic bag to put it in and head over to the small man made lake where I wash off the crusted pieces of gunk that cling to it. I can't believe my luck, a new shirt! I hang it on a line that I have strung across my spot under the bridge, making sure to make as little noise as possible so I won't wake anyone. Five months ago, I would have been thinking the same thing, except it would have been the four girls in my room at Ms. Penny's I would have worried about waking and not a small pack of older men and women that smell to high heaven. Ms. Penny's sweet smile comes to mind and I shake my head to clear the onslaught of thoughts. It still hurts to think about her, to know that she's gone. She would have never let this happen to me.

My stomach growls, the gnawing feeling reminding me that I didn't get anything to eat. It's not often that I let my empty stomach get to me, but some mornings when I can smell hot coffee in the air and fresh donuts being fried it gets to me like everyone else. This so happens to be one of those mornings.

I take a swig from the water bottle that I keep by my things, attempting to stifle the hunger pains. It does little to help. Hoping my neighbors will sleep a little bit longer, I head back out in search of food.

The city is waking; people are getting up for work, buying their bagels and coffee. It's the ideal time to take a seat on the sidewalk and wait for passers by. With money cup in hand, I huddle down against a brick wall and hope for a good morning.

"Spare some change," I ask a man in a business suit as he makes his way down the street.

He avoids my gaze as many others do and hurries pass. I shrug it off. I can't really blame him, bums used to freak me out too.

"Miss, spare some change,"

A small old woman drops a dime and two nickels into my cup, making a clank noise as I give her a warm smile.

"God bless,"

She walks away and I turn my attention back to the other passers by. A man in his early twenties is making his way down the street. His bronze hair is wild, tattoos cover his arms disappearing under his black tee, a curved barbell pierces through his right eyebrow, and his eyes are a stunning shade of green. In one hand, he's holding a small bag from McDonald's, and in the other, a coffee. However, it's not the smell of his food that holds my attention nor is it his appearance, although he is attractive even if he's not my type. No, it's neither of those things that have me captivated. What keeps me staring is that when I look pass the outer shell and analyze him as I normally do to determine whether or not I may be able to get a scrap of food off someone, it's like there's nothing there, almost as if he's dead inside.


	2. Help You, Help Me

**Chapter 1**

**Help You, Help Me**

"If we all tried to make other people's paths easy, our own feet would have a smooth even place to walk on."~ Myrtle Reed

**BPOV**

My alarm buzzes and with a groan, I smack the off button before rubbing the sleep from my eyes. The clock tells me it's five AM and I let out a sigh. No one should have to wake up at five AM. I enjoy sleep, the feeling of drifting into a haze of nothing. If I had a choice, I would sleep the day away, but I don't. I have to get up; I have to go to work. Forcing myself out of bed, I reach for what I hope is a clean towel. The community washing machine for the apartment building is on the fritz again so I can't be sure. It smells clean though.

I drag my feet across my small one bedroom apartment and start the shower, praying there will be hot water today. I swear if it's cold again I'm going to give my landlord a piece of my mind. Oh, who am I kidding, I'd never do that. Once the water is lukewarm, I step in and wash up quickly, the mirror is barely even foggy when I get out. It makes me miss the hot showers that I used to get at Ms. Penny's...Her face comes to mind, and I try to remember the last time I saw her. Five months? Has it really been that long? I should make a trip to see her. I'd have to set aside a couple hours this week and take a walk to her place, she lives quite a distance away.

I swipe some of the condensation on the mirror with my towel, taking in my wet hair and large doe eyes that are the dullest shade of brown. Ms. Penny always says they're a beautiful chestnut brown, but I tend to disagree, they're just brown, shitty everyday brown. A few minutes later, I'm pulling on a clean pair of khakis and a black tee, making my way to the door. It clicks into place after I pull on it and jiggle it the right way. God, this place is a dump. I wish I could afford something better. I take my normal route to Toffee Coffee, a series of back alleys and shortcuts. I discovered this path a few days after I started working and it cuts my walking time in half. I enjoy walking, but I would much rather do it after work. Plus, this way I can sleep in longer. I'm already looking forward to taking my regular path home, through the park, when I reach my destination. The line of customers stretches out the door and I know it's going to be a busy day.

"Hey, Bells," Jake calls out to me, while adding foam to a cappuccino.

His tan Native American skin, long black hair, deep brown eyes, and bulging muscles attract a lot of our female clientele. Rosalie, our manager, sometimes even calls him 'Chief Beefcake' on particularly productive mornings. He's been working here for two and a half years, only 6 months longer than me. We often work the same shifts and he's the closest thing to a friend that I have, which isn't saying much considering I can sum up everything I know about him in one sentence. He's 18 years old, he's studying pre-med at the University of Washington, and he's always nice to everyone, even people who don't deserve it. I let out a mental snort. Oh yeah, we're best buds.

I give him a curt nod, walking pass him to the back so that I can clock in and dawn my green apron.

"Come on, come on, get a move on, Bella!" Rosalie shouts, her ice blue eyes piercing through me. She's clearly in bitch manager mode.

Her blonde hair is up in a high ponytail today and still her curvy locks fall in perfect waves down her back. I swear at 22 she could pass for 17. She has one of those super model bodies that easily attracts any male within viewing distance, providing us with an ample amount of return costumers. Not many of them know about her bitch streak though. Rosalie has two sides. There's the nurturing, charming, and gentle side that provided me a front on my check so that I could buy new shoes because mine had holes in them. Then, there's the over worked, overstressed, and bitchy side, which usually comes out whenever Irina, the owner of Toffee Coffee, gets on her case. As I'm clocking in, I check out in my mind. The buzz of voices becomes little more then a gentle hum as I work the grinders, blenders, and other machines. I'm almost sure I take a lunch at some point, although I can't be positive because I zone out after awhile, allowing the hours to pass with little meaning.

"Bells?"

"Huh?" I reply, when the voice breaks through my trance.

I turn my head, looking up from the bag that I'm currently filling with coffee grinds to see Jake's eyes level with mine, a warm smile on his face and his hand resting on my shoulder. I can feel the heat of a long day radiating off his body and it's uncomfortable, having someone inside my bubble, I don't like it. I slide back a ways, putting space between the two of us as Jacob quickly removes his hand.

"Sorry, forget you like your space," Jake apologizes, the smile on his face dropping.

I can't help but feel bad for hurting his feelings. Over the years, he's tried hard to get me to open up, to put me at ease, but I always push him away. It's just instinctual for me. In fact, Ms. Penny is the only one I've let touch me in eight years and it took more than three years for me to warm up to her. We both figure it has something to do with Charlie. My heart pinches at the thought of my dad's name. Sometimes, I think it's weird that I still can't think of him without feeling sad, especially since it's been so long. I guess it makes sense though. After all, you only get one father.

"Don't worry about it, okay?" I tell him, forcing a small smile, and pushing Charlie to the back of my mind.

"Alright," he replies, his lips curving up again to show his pearly white teeth. A tugging sensation pulls at my heart and my smile turns genuine. I know it's odd, but it makes me happy to see him happy. "I just wanted to let you know that it's four o'clock. Angela and Ben are here to take over for us."

"Oh!" I exclaim, wiping my hands off on my apron. "Thanks."

"No problem,"

We walk to the back, put our aprons away, and clock out with Jake clearly taking extra care to avoid invading my boundaries. It's too bad I have such a hard time with people because with his caring nature, I'm sure we could be great friends. Unfortunately, that would require letting down the walls I've built and that's just not something I'm ready to do.

"So, are you taking your normal route home?" He asks as we head to the exit.

"Yeah,"

"You still have that pepper spray I gave you?"

"Yes." I roll my eyes. "And you really didn't have to get me that."

"I know, but I was worried about you walking alone all the time. Seattle isn't exactly the safest city. Just, be careful, alright?"

He holds the door open for me and I give him a nod as I walk through.

"See you tomorrow?"

"Yep, bright and early," he replies and with a wave we both turn to walk our separate ways.

The park is quiet, the sky cloudy with impending rain. While I step along my normal dirt path, kicking debris to the sides, my mind unintentionally wonders to thoughts of Charlie. They're all happy memories, not that we didn't have our troubles, every family does. Our bad days were rare though because it was always just him and me. My mom died in childbirth and I was daddy's little girl, we did everything together. He took me fishing, taught me to ride my first bike, and even told me the worst bedtime stories ever. Seriously, they were horrible; all the character's voices sounded exactly the same. He couldn't cook worth a crap, but I'd give practically anything for a plate of his undercooked pasta and burnt toast. A series of laughs escapes me. There was a time when I'd give anything not to eat that. A few tears force their way out of my eyes, choking off my laugher. It never fails; even the thought of his silly 70s moustache that he simply refused to shave makes me cry.

When I reach the bridge to cross over the small lake in the middle of the park a familiar voice catches my attention, bringing me back to reality.

"Hey! Give that back, it's mine!"

"And just what are you going to do about it, little girl," A scruffy male voice responds, tauntingly.

I look in the direction of the voices and a sense of shock fills me. A bum with matted brown hair, dressed in layers of tattered and torn clothing is having a full on tug of war with a tiny, pixie-like, girl dressed in only a black holey wife beater and gray sweats. Her skin's covered in a layer of dirt and grime, her hair appears black, but is so messy and knotted I can't be entirely sure. Each has their hands wrapped around the sleeve of a ripped plaid shirt as they pull with all their might. The man is obviously much bigger and still the girl is holding on with amazing tenacity.

"Who are you calling little girl, you fat fuck?" She shouts her hypnotic gray eyes shimmering with anger.

An image of a tiny girl emerges from my memory, one of Ms. Penny's girls who lived down the hall from me. We never spoke because well, I never spoke to anyone. However, there were times when I watched her from afar, she was always feisty, energetic, the epitome of optimism. This is her, that same girl…

"Alice Brandon,"

The name tumbles from my mouth without warning. Her head snaps up and the shirt slips from her fingers. The man takes advantage of the distraction and bolts, shirt in hand. My heart starts to pound with fear. She's bound to be angry with me for making her lose a piece of clothing that she desperately needs. When she sees me, her face slips into an expression of recognition and then exultation, no hint of anger at the loss, filling me with relief.

"Bella, is that you?" She asks cheerfully, rushing over to me and stopping inches short of hugging me.

I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding.

"Almost forget…about the touching thing," she giggles. "I guess it's a good thing I remembered since I'm all grimy and gross."

Her arms trail back to her sides nervously and against my will, I laugh.

"Shit, sorry," I murmur, ashamed of my insensitivity, but Alice just smiles at me.

"It's alright, I do look pretty ridiculous," she gestures to herself and shrugs her shoulder. "Eh, still better than being at Ms. Victoria's. At least I won't ever have to go back there, now that I'm eighteen."

"Ms. Victoria?" I raise an eyebrow at her in confusion. "Did you get moved?"

Alice's face drops as it takes on a sorrowful appearance.

"It's been a while since you've been by Ms. Penny's," she says, avoiding my question.

"Five months, I was actually planning on going over there sometime this week,"

"Do you maybe have some time to talk? There's really something I should tell you,"

A knot begins to form in my stomach at her words. I have a bad feeling.

"Uh, yeah,"

"Okay, let me grab my bag real quick so I don't get jacked again," I give her a nod and wait as she disappears under the bridge, surfacing moments later with a medium sized duffle bag over her shoulder.

It's only then that I realize her whole life is in that bag, everything, and I don't know why it hits me so hard, but it does. I have the sudden urge to help her, so I offer the only thing I have, a lukewarm shower and a hot meal of top ramen.

"Let's go back to my place, you can get a shower, and I'll make us some dinner," I suggest.

"No, I don't want to put you out, Bella," she protests, shaking her head. "We'll just walk and talk."

Normally, I would let it go; I'm not the type to argue, but when a few drops of rain begin to tumble down on us and her skin breaks out in Goosebumps, I do something I never do.

"No, you're coming over, you're taking a shower, and I'm making you dinner!" I demand, and it feels so good that I actually go a step further. "Oh, and you're sleeping on my couch tonight."

Feeling triumphant, I begin to walk in the direction of home, taking a route I never take because it's shorter and I want to get Alice warmed up before she catches pneumonia. After a few steps, I realize I'm alone. I turn my head to look behind me where I see Alice's mouth dropped wide open and her body frozen in what I can only assume is shock.

"Well, come on!" I call out to her. "As Ms. Penny would say, 'You're going to catch your death.'"

Alice's face falls into a perfect poker face as she jogs to catch up with me. The knot in my stomach grows, my bad feeling just got worse.

We make our way towards my apartment on the new trail. Huge trees, with leaves that are beginning to change glorious autumn colors, cover the path and block most of the rain that continues to fall. The only sound is the gentle drops as they slide from the plant to plant, eventually hitting the ground. That is until we get to a point on the path where the walkway widens.

"I wish it wasn't raining so hard. There'll be no one left at 'Still Life'," Alice comments, peering up at the opening in the path ahead.

"Oh yeah, I've heard of that place before. I never go this way so I haven't seen it myself since they added it last year. It's where the artists hang out though, right?"

"Yep, sometimes I like to go there and watch them work. A few of them are really talented and there's always new people showing up. Actually, I came across a guy while panhandling a couple days ago who paints the most spectacular paintings I've ever seen. I hadn't seen him before, but I think that's because he hides out in a smaller section, away from all the others. I actually saw him come in here and I kind of followed him."

I let out a gasp and give her a look that clearly says, 'creepy stalker,' and she shrugs her shoulders.

"I was curious,"

The path opens up to a meadow, except it's more of a maze than a meadow. Thick vines cover wooden archways to sections that are separated off from other areas by trees, hedges, and statues, each unique in their own way. It's enchanting really, like a fairy tale courtyard. It's so unbelievable that I almost expect to have a unicorn, or some other equally mythical creature, walk right in front of me.

"UGH!" A loud voice echoes into the quiet followed by a crash and I jump in surprise.

"It's him!" Alice exclaims, in a whisper.

"Who?"

"The painter, come on," she waves me in the direction of a tiny area, surrounded by trees that wind in and around each other, their trunks and branches creating a dome like structure.

There, in the center, almost like some caged animal, sits the most gorgeous man I have ever laid eyes on. He's wearing dark jeans and a white shirt that sticks to him like a second skin, wet with water or perspiration, I'm not really sure considering the ground of his small space seems dry. The easel in front of him is empty, the painting that he was working on flat on the forest floor. He runs his hands across his perfectly chiseled jaw, pass his pierced eyebrow, and up through his tousled bronze hair in aggravation, his eyes shut tightly. I watch his muscles flex under a layer of tattoos that cover every square inch of his arms and continue onto his chest, the wet shirt he's wearing making every line visible. I can feel my arousal as my heart starts to pound and it occurs to me that I have never wanted someone this bad and he's a stranger, a complete stranger. I'm barely able to concentrate on the swirls that wrap around the left half of his chest, curving around one of his flawless pecs and stamped on his defined abs when the sound of my own voice breaks through the silence.

"Dear god,"

I immediately clamp my hands over my mouth and make to run because I hate confrontation but it's too late, the painter's eyes open, entrancing emerald green. They lock on mine, and for an instant, I forget who I am and why I need to run. He stares at me as if I'm the unicorn, that stunning mythical creature that lurks in the 'Still Life' courtyard, and that's when I hear Alice's voice yelling my name and I remember. I'm Bella Swan, and it's time to run because I won't let anyone get close enough to hurt me.


	3. Lost in the Paint

**Chapter 2**

**Lost In the Paint**

"I put my heart and my soul into my work, and have lost my mind in the process."~ Vincent Van Gogh

**EPOV**

I coat my brush in a dark shade of brown, swirling in a bit of auburn and honey gold before pressing it to the canvas. My hand works on its own accord, moving to create long, wavy strokes that curve around her face, fanning out onto the luscious green grass beneath her. A flick of the wrist and a few wispy pieces of chestnut brown hair lay across her shoulders, down around her perky tits that are flushed a delicate shade of rosy pink. Picking up a bit more dark brown with my brush, I give her lidded, lustful eyes the warm chocolate color from my fantasies while avoiding slipping into their endless pull. I can get lost in them for hours if I allow it.

I rinse the brush in a small cup, wiping the excess paint away on my jeans, and then, on instinct, dip into the strawberry red. I apply it to her slightly open lips, wishing it could be my fingers running along the soft, full skin. I imagine my mouth against hers, the taste of her beauty on my tongue, how warm she would feel. Forcing my attention back to the moment, I clean the brush again and apply a few more minor details, the light shimmer of sun on her flat belly, and the glistening beads of sweat that roll down her body. I admire the finished piece; my girl is lying on the grass with her arms resting above her head. Her radiant ivory skin set perfectly against her silky looking hair. Seeing her as I did in my dream just hours ago makes her seem almost real, if only she were…

Taking in the studio around me, I see piece after piece of her. I noticed two days ago that she's in every one, even in my professional works. I found her hidden among the swarms of people in the bustling city stills. I recognized her gorgeous, bare leg poking out of a field of wild flowers. I caught her sleeping underneath the full moon in the background of a forest landscape. Her body wrapped in a thick band of red ribbon that fell over her face, tits, and hips, surrounded by wolves. The color of her hair is in the slash strokes of my abstract pieces, the curve of her hips in the clouds of mountain top scenes and rippled lakes. She is in all of them, even if only in some small way.

However, there are dozens of paintings, my private ones, which consist only of her. My girl runs naked through the surf of a tropical beach, her eyes sparkling in the setting sun. She picks flowers in a meadow, wearing only a flowing white gown. She's standing a top a cliff on the ocean, her head thrown back laughing and pulling off her clothes in preparation to dive into the water. I dreamt of all these things, the dreams of her are always the best. When I wake up from one, most often in the middle of the night, I paint. I pour myself into the canvas, painting every line of her with precise detail. Her lingering presence in my mind fills me with warmth that I can't even begin to comprehend, allowing me to hold onto her for a little while longer, to feel alive. Then, I realize where I am, alone in my studio, surrounded by paint. At that point, it's like there's nothing left of me, almost as if I put everything I had into keeping her, only to lose it all.

It's not that I have a difficult life because I don't. I have money, fame, wonderful parents, brothers who are my best friends, but none of it compares to her, my girl. It's unhealthy, I know, to continue the sick obsession of painting her, knowing what will happen when I do, but I can't seem to stop. She's all I can think about these days. Picking up the canvas, I place it among the others to dry before I step over to the window and run a hand through my hair. The sun is coming up, I can tell because it's casting a large shadow into the alley that runs behind my 2-bedroom apartment. It's early, maybe 5:30 or so. I know I should get some sleep, I only slept for a few hours last night, but when I make to turn around a glint of auburn catches my attention.

Peering down into the alley, I watch as a figure steps out from the shadows. I can't see her face from this angle, but her hair is unmistakable as it glitters in the stray beams of sun that shine into the darkness. The chestnut color, the long waves…the black shirt and khaki pants she wears form perfectly to her lithe body, hugging every curve, covering up the ivory skin that always aches to be touched by my hand. It's not as magical or provocative as what she normally wears in my visions, but nonetheless, my heart thuds in my chest at the sight. This has happened before, but never like this.

Sometimes, when I've gone a few days without sleep, trapped in the canvas of a particular piece, my brain won't shut off and she finds me. She sits beside me as I work and eventually provokes me into my bed, to a deep restful sleep, full of dreams of her. My mind races with thoughts of meadows, beaches, full moons, and red silk sheets. She's warm and soft, alive with heat underneath me, above me, beside me. As I imagine her sleeping in the crook of my arm, her arms wrapped around me, I realize that my girl is disappearing around the corner of the alley and a trembling fear rocks my body. No, she can't leave!

I race out of my apartment, down five flights of stairs, the cold cement on my bare feet making me shiver and sending a shock through me. Have I truly gone crazy? Am I really chasing a hallucination like a mad man? I stop dead in my tracks, taking in the world around me. There's a ridiculously long line outside of Toffee Coffee, the over priced coffee shop I avoid like the plague. My girl is nowhere in sight, she's vanished once again and this time she didn't even bother to lay with me until I fell asleep first. I feel empty and cold. I think briefly about going around the corner and picking up some coffee and breakfast from the McDonalds before remembering I have no shoes. I push away my disappointment and head back upstairs, hoping that I can sleep off some of my insanity.

My phone goes off, the obnoxious ringing waking me from a dreamless sleep. I reach for it with half opened eyes and place it to my ear.

"Hello," I grumble.

"Are you still asleep, bro?"

"Yes, Emmett. What do you want?" I ask with irritation in my voice, I hate when people wake me up. "I swear if you're calling to tell me about another video game, I _will_ fucking hurt you."

My brother is an overgrown man-child and even though he's two years older than I am, he's about as mature as a 13 year old, which leads to some very retarded conversations. The amount of time I have spent listening to him talk about video games is unfathomable.

"Well, gees, someone's bitchy. You know, you really need to live a little. You should get yourself some pussy, like _real_ pussy, from a _real_ girl."

"Fuck you," I snap viciously into the phone.

About a year ago, when Emmett appointed himself my manager, which I actually owe him a lot of my success for, I went out on a limb and told him about the girl with the chestnut hair, worst mistake ever.

"Sorry, but last time I checked, I don't have a pussy, Eddie. Besides, incest is illegal in the state of Washington, numb nuts."

"UGH! How many fucking times have I told you not to call me, Eddie? Seriously, what about that is so hard for you to remember, _Emma?_ " I pause, not really giving him the time to answer, and then, continue with my voice slightly calmer. "Now you have exactly 20 seconds before I hang up on your ass so what the fuck do you want?"

"Whatever," he replies with a snort, not even affected by my anger or the girly name. "Its 1 o'clock now. Just make sure you're at mom and dad's house at seven for dinner. Oh, and try to get Mom a gift this year or at least paint her something pretty, you know how she loves that sentimental crap."

"Shit," I hiss. Is it really September already?

I look at the date on my clock, September 24, I forgot, again. What kind of person forgets their mother's birthday two years in a row? Rubbing my hand across my face, I try to think of the last day I remember clearly. My 21st birthday sticks out of the haze of never ending days, June 20, three months…I can't believe it's been three months. I shake my head. What's happening to me?

"Forget again?" Emmett's voice breaks through the silence

"Yeah," I sigh. "I'll be there. Thanks for calling, Em."

"No problem," he pauses as if he wants to say something, but can't decide if he should. Emmett normally voices whatever is on his mind so I know it can't be good that he's holding it in. Eventually he gives up though, and after a quick goodbye, hangs up, leaving me in silence.

I climb out of bed and stretch, feeling the pull of my muscles as I reach for a white shirt and slide it on. The dark colored jeans that I'm still wearing from earlier stay on and I slip my feet into a pair of shoes. Grabbing my easel, a folding chair, and some essentials, I make my way out the door and down towards the park. I come to 'Still Life' everyday, rain or shine. However, not consistently at the same time, sometimes its morning when the birds are chirping and the fog is thick, sometimes its night and I carry a lantern for light to see by, but I always go to the same place. There's a section hidden away that people rarely see, where a bundle of trees creates an almost cage-like structure, the one place outdoors that's isolated enough for me to paint.

Painting has constantly been my life. From the time that I was old enough to finger paint, it was all I ever wanted to do. Unfortunately, I discovered early on that I could only think clearly when I was completely alone. The sound of another breath in the room was enough to throw me off, and with two brothers, it was hard to find any quiet. My parents, with their infinite understanding, designated a space for me at home, a small room that I could escape to when I felt the urge to create something. It was my sanctuary. When I moved out two years ago they kept it open to me, but I felt strange going there at two in the morning. Plus, I didn't really need it because I was living alone, no one could bother me. I was satisfied with the apartment, but when I heard of the new section in the park for artists, I was curious. Jasper, my younger brother, walks through there all the time for his classes at the local community college. He told me it was pretty secluded so I finally decided to check it out. I fell in love with it instantly. I try my hardest not to think of my girl when I'm here, to create something that doesn't revolve around her. In the past, I thought I succeeded, but now I know better, she's in everything no matter what I do.

The last few days I've doubled my efforts though, forcing myself to think carefully of the colors I choose and the shapes I create, avoiding ones that resemble her in any way. So, perhaps I'll be able to make something for my mother today, flowers, mountains, snow, just a beautiful, feminine still. Setting down my things, I take a few deep breaths, attempting to clear my mind as I rest on the chair in front of the empty canvas. My hand moves with little input from me, but it doesn't stop me from trying to control it. Instead, of picking up an ivory color like my instincts are demanding I do, I dip into black and apply a layer of it to the edges of the canvas, losing myself in the short, thick strokes.

Color after color coats my brush as the hours pass, midnight blue, indigo, deep sky blue, violet, cyan, lavender, and snow white. Sweat runs down my body as I concentrate hard on every slope and curve, each color that I place on my pallet. When I feel done, I rest the paint at my feet and really look at what I've created. It's a fantasy painting with a unicorn, a mother-fucking unicorn, galloping through a shallow lake at night with waterfalls and rocky ledges in the background. I laugh silently to myself. What kind of full-grown man paints a unicorn? Whatever, as long as my girl's not hiding in it somewhere I'm satisfied. I examine the lines, the color of every inch of it as I twitch my legs nervously. My confidence builds when I grasp that I've already scanned 65 percent of the piece without an issue and that's when I see her. On the left side of the canvas, a little bit more than halfway up, is a pool of water underneath a waterfall and barely visible against the rocks, is a dark, side-view silhouette of her wet head poking out of the water, her arms extended above the surface of the lake and fingers running through her drenched hair.

For a moment, I'm overwhelmed with happiness at seeing her there, and then, I remember how crazy I've become since I started painting her two years ago. This morning I went running outside in bare feet to chase a hallucination, I forgot my own mother's birthday not once, but twice, I haven't had sex because I can't think of touching another woman, and I've forced myself to stay awake for days on end so that I could see her. I eat, sleep, and breathe for my girl, and when I'm awake and not painting, I'm a hollow, empty shell. This isn't healthy, it's not right to live for a girl that doesn't even exist!

The rage in me builds as I grip the painting in my hand.

"UGH!" I groan in irritation and throw it to the ground before sinking my head into my hands.

This has to stop, Edward Cullen. Do you really want to live this way, obsessed with a girl you can never have? I rake my fingers across my face and up through my hair, leaving my eyes closed as I contemplate the answer.

"Dear god,"

My heart stops, every muscle in my body tightens as my breath hitches at the sound of her angelic, bell-like voice, a voice that cries out my name in my deepest fantasies. I open my eyes and find my girl gazing back at me through a tangle of tree trunks. She appears scared with eyes heavy lidded from lust, hands over her mouth, and it's a jolt to my heart. She's the most real I've ever seen her, no glow to her skin, no dressed up clothes just the same khakis and shirt I saw her in earlier, and it makes my heart race, my blood boil. I find I like her better this way. In the distance, I hear a shout, something I can't quite decipher because I'm lost in the deep chocolate pools of her eyes, the question I asked myself moments ago now answered with a resounding 'yes' in my mind. She turns to run and I panic.

"Wait! Don't go," The words tumble out of my mouth as I walk out from my cage and step cautiously over to her. She faces me, but takes a few steps away as if I'm a predator and she's my prey, contemplating an escape. "Stay with me, please?"

She's acting strange, timid, and nervous. All the confidence she normally exhibits is non-existent and I find myself enjoying that, I like that _I_ can control _her_ for once. I bridge the gap between us and reach up to stroke her cheek softly. When my skin touches hers she lets out a deep moan, and I can feel the heat rush to her cheeks as she flushes rosy pink. It's because of the warmth that I find myself unable to wait any longer. I close the distance between our lips, kissing her the way she enjoys to be kissed, gently, ever so gentle. She surprises me by deepening the connection however, forcing my lips to open, and sliding her tongue across mine roughly. My body feels alive with a fire that burns hot through my veins. Her strawberry taste is so much stronger than it's ever been before, and combined with her invigorating scent it fills me with life. I groan with satisfaction into her mouth, intoxicated by her, confident in myself, relishing the idea of pleasuring her right here in this spot. Her movements still as if the sound of my groan triggers something in her. My body clenches with fear as she pries herself away from me and I open my eyes to see her confused, but determined expression. I don't even have time to try to stop her before she takes off down a path, leaving me lost once more. It is the greatest hallucination I have had yet, it's almost as if I can still taste her on my lips and I decide that if this is what it's like to be crazy, I suppose it's worth it.


	4. Pushing Pass Comfort

**Chapter 3**

**Pushing Pass Comfort**

"Life starts at the end of your comfort zone."~ Neale Donald Walsch

**BPOV**

I turn away from the gorgeous stranger, my eyes zeroing in on Alice who has taken refuge behind a group of large trees. She waves me over frantically and with fear coursing through my body, I take a step forward.

"Wait! Don't go."

The soothing sound of his velvet voice sends shivers across my skin, awakening something in me, a heat that builds in my toes and travels up my body. Unintentionally, I turn so I can face him again and find myself trapped by the look of devotion in his emerald eyes. He walks slowly in my direction, and on instinct, I take a few steps back. The knot of anxiety should start building in my stomach about now, the overwhelming fear of someone getting too close, but for some reason I begin to feel uncomfortable in a very different way than normal. My insides are knotting with excitement instead of anxiety and honestly, it scares the shit out of me more. I actually want to let him in my space… Why do I want to let him in when I've worked so hard to keep everyone else out? What makes him so different?

"Stay with me, please?" he pleads, a sense of desperation and need in his tone as he steps closer, ink moving with muscle, eyes shinning adoringly.

My arousal drips at his proximity, he's only a foot or so away and I can smell him. The scent of cinnamon fills the air around me and even masked by paint it's still enticing and mouth-watering. The heat that has made its way up my body is building, warming my insides like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold day. He enters my immediate space and every nerve in my body becomes a live wire, tingling with anticipation and longing. I can't move, can't speak, I can barely even think when I feel his hand softly caress my face. A moan falls from my lips and immediately heat floods my cheeks, my embarrassment at my outburst visible to the world.

It's with my cheeks blazing hot that he leans in and presses his lips gently against mine. Electric, earth-shattering, mountain-moving joy sets my skin on fire and I feel like he'll never be close enough to satisfy the addiction I know is forming at this very moment. I never knew it could be like this, that I could want something more than air, more than anything. My heart pounds in my chest, faster than I ever thought it could go and I'm both exhilarated and terrified. A rough, primal need surges inside me, a need to taste him fully. I force his mouth to open so that I can savor the spicy sweetness of his tongue and his hot breath invades every inch of me as he releases a delectable groan. The sound is bursting with life, vibrating against my lips, and making me feel something I haven't felt in a long time. It's a sensation of being loved so deeply that you know without a doubt that, that person would give anything for you, even his or her own life…

I pry myself away from the stranger with terror that causes my lungs to cease movement and it doesn't matter that I know he couldn't possibly feel that way. Just the sensation is enough of a wake-up call. I won't let anyone get close enough to hurt me, not ever again. Taking one last look at him, I watch his body stiffen, a painful expression of fear invading his perfect face as he struggles to remain standing as if he's lost a piece of himself due to my absence. How could he feel so strongly about me and why does it hurt me so much to see him like this? It doesn't matter…I ignore the need to embrace him, comfort him. It's not that I don't want to, but I can't risk it. I can't risk loving anyone; I can't handle the emptiness, the hollow feeling at the loss that follows. His eyes open and before he has the chance to dazzle me with his gaze, I take off. I pass Alice as my feet pound away at the dirt, moving as fast as I can. Once I've gone a ways I realize that it's only the sound of _her_ tiny, broken shoes chasing me, _her_ voice calling my name. I'm not as heartless as I try to be, there's no way that I can leave her out here; not after promising her a warm shower, a hot meal, and a couch to sleep on. I stop and wait for her to catch up, demanding her with my eyes to say nothing. She seems to understand because the walk is silent the rest of the way home.

Alice takes a shower while I cook us some top roman and toast. When she comes out of the bathroom in the same dirty clothes she was wearing before, I hand her a pair of my pajamas. She tries to protest, but when I glare at her, she takes them from me and retreats to the bathroom to change. Dinner is quiet and between sips of broth, I take the opportunity to appraise Alice. She's different with the dirt scrubbed from her face, her black hair longer now that it's free of all the knots. It falls flat against her face, ending pass her shoulders, plagued with split ends, yet it seems shiny like silk. A smile lights up her face, it's there even when she thinks I'm not looking and a sense of pride comes over me, eliminating some of the dread that's in me from earlier. I suddenly don't regret bringing her here, not at all. Without cable, there's really no reason to turn on the television so I make each of us a cup of tea and we sit on the far ends of my worn-out green couch.

"Bella?" Alice asks a few minutes into us both staring at empty space, her smile gone.

"Yeah?" I reply, drinking some tea and keeping my words simple to avoid talking too much. Talking too much leads to knowing more about a person. Knowing more about someone leads to friendship and friendship leads to the worst thing of all, love. I already know too much about her from living in the same house with her for 6 years, I can't afford to know anymore.

"Ms. Penny's dead," Alice says, her voice soft, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

Her last word throbs like a pulse in my mind. Dead, _thud_ , dead _,_ _thud_ _,_ dead, _thud_ _._ Ms. Penny is dead…The plain white mug slips from my hand. It falls to the floor in slow motion, bouncing off the couch, soaking me in warm tea before hitting the cracked hard wood floor and shattering into pieces as my heart follows suit. This, _this_ is why I don't love.

The tears that fall down my cheeks do so against my will. They cascade like rain, soaking my face in salt water as a memory that I can't seem to destroy plays in my thoughts, the night that led me to Ms. Penny, the night Charlie died…

_The moon shined through my window, bathing my tiny room in its soft glow. The excitement building in me was making it horribly difficult to sleep. The morning would bring the start of a new school year, sixth grade to be precise. I loved school; I loved books and challenging myself, and most of all I loved that my best friend, Lauren, would be there. We were going to have the same teacher that year and I could hardly contain my happiness._

_Forcing my eyes closed, I willed the night to move faster as I clutched my purple blanket. I could hear my dad snoring across the hall of our little two-story home. The sound was soothing, like the beat of a mother's heart to a baby. I found myself getting tired and then, the inhaling and exhaling of my dad's breath eventually pulled me into a deep sleep._

_The breaking of glass woke me, ripping me from slumber. My eyes snapped open and I found a man standing in my room. He was dressed in torn-up jeans, a dark colored sweater, and a ski mask, holding what I knew very well to be a gun. As a police chief's daughter, I was taught about guns at a young age. Even though I was 11, almost 12, I knew a lot about guns and this was a_ _**real** _ _gun with_ _**real** _ _bullets, most likely a 9mm with 10-17 rounds in the clip. He put his gloved hand to his lips signaling me to be quiet. I panicked and opened my mouth to let out a scream, but he bolted towards me, covering my mouth with his hand just in time to stifle the sound._

" _Make another noise and I'll blow your fucking head off, understand?" He whispered his voice rough and tone angry._

_I could smell alcohol on his breath, the scent of it a lot stronger than the beer that my dad drank. It smelled like rubbing alcohol and burned my nostrils. I couldn't think of words to answer, I didn't know if I was supposed to answer. Silent tears fell down my face as he pressed the gun to my head._

" _Understand?" He asked again and for the first time I saw the color of his eyes, blue. Blue like the color of the sky at night, deep and dark, almost black. I nodded my head in agreement before he grabbed me by the arm and yanked me off the bed. He dropped a piece of paper with mixed up letters in my place and his ponytail of blond hair brushed over my face. The intense smell of alcohol and the gnawing terror in my stomach made me vomit on the floor, sending splatters of half-digested meatloaf on the man's shoes._

" _Gross!" he shouted, squirming in disgust._

" _Bella...did you get sick, honey?" My dad called out, woken by the noise, and I could hear his footsteps as he made his way down the short hall between our two rooms._

" _Shit," The man hissed. He pushed me back on the mattress, stuffing the note in his pocket as he ducked down behind the bed, whispering so that only I could hear. "Get him to go away."_

" _N-, no, I'm fine." I replied to my dad, my voice shaky._

" _Are you sure, honey? You don't sound good,"_

_I watched the doorknob jiggle, and slowly it opened to reveal my dad in red plaid pajama pants and a white wife beater. It took him just a second to scan the room. He saw the window smashed, my face wet and blotchy from my tears, and he knew, he just knew. His eyes moved from mine to the other side of my bed, and then, back to me. I wouldn't have even noticed the movement if I hadn't been trying to memorize his face, every line, every hair, the warm brown color of his eyes. He looked at me with a question in his gaze, 'Is someone back there?'_

" _I'm sure, daddy," I answered, giving him the response I needed to give for his previous question, but also his silent one._

" _Alright, well come over here and give me a quick hug before I go back to bed. You know how your hugs always put me right to sleep," he said, with a big, fake smile._

_Carefully, I climbed out of bed and walked over to the door, every step away from the man possibly my last, but when I reached my dad and he wrapped his arms around me, squeezing me tightly, I couldn't help but feel safe. We weren't safe though, neither of us were safe._

" _I love you, Bella,"_

" _I love you too, Daddy,"_

_I forced myself to hold back tears as he whispered in my ear._

" _Run,"_

_I was daddy's little girl and I did as I was told, I ran. I had only taken two steps when I heard the man fire his first shot. A groan of pain echoed through the house, but I didn't turn around. I heard more bullets as they ricocheted off the walls of the stairs that I was running down. Footsteps hit the ground, following me as I rushed out the back door and into the forest behind my house. I ran and ran until I couldn't hear anything except my own panted breath and that's when I collapsed to the forest floor. That's where they found me; soaked in tears, shaking uncontrollably, and practically catatonic._

I peer through blurry eyes and see Alice, a mirror image of myself, wiping away her tears with the sleeves of my green pajamas, sobbing loud and broken sobs. My heart splits at the sight. When Charlie died, I was the only one that truly grieved; the sting of his loss was far more profound for me, his only family, than anyone else. Ms. Penny was different though. The kind old woman that pushed me when no one else could, fed me when no one else would, was more than a caretaker to many girls and one of them was sitting across from me. In fact, Ms. Penny probably meant more to her than she did to me.

I remember the day I heard Alice's tale, the story of an orphan whose parents didn't die, but simply abandoned her.

_I was sitting on the bed in my room at Ms. Penny's Home for Girls. The few things that I was able to bring with me stored in the nightstand beside me. I'd only been there for two weeks and I wasn't much for company so I was glad that I didn't have to share the space. I didn't have to share because I was new, but soon I would have to move in to a room with three other girls. That was something I definitely wasn't looking forward to, having other people around all the time. I just wanted to be alone._

_Looking over at the calendar, I noticed what day it was, September 13, my birthday. I was 12 and it wasn't anything worth celebrating. Without Charlie, it didn't even matter. Who would want to celebrate an orphan's birth? I was just one more mouth to feed now, one more kid to keep alive until I turned 18._

_I closed my eyes and tried to nap, to drift into the haze of nothing that would allow me to escape my new existence. That's when I heard a small girly voice, creeping through the vent in my room._

" _Well, for those of you who don't know, my name's Alice Brandon. I became a ward of the state at three and have been with Ms. Penny since that time. My father is in jail and my mother got hopped up on cocaine, and abandoned me in a motel room."_

_For a moment, I wondered why she would be spilling that all out for everyone to hear and then, I heard another girl's voice. She didn't give her name so I truly had no idea who she was, not that it mattered really._

" _Do you ever wish your mother would come back?"_

_It made sense then, they were having a group therapy session. Ms. Penny held them once a week and I would have to attend them soon. I was planning to put up a fight when the time came. Even if she could make me go, she couldn't make me talk._

" _No, why would I?" Alice replied, "I barely remember her and the small things I do remember are horrible. She's probably dead anyway."_

" _Alice!" Ms. Penny chastised her for her insensitivity._

" _What? It's true." Alice objected._

" _We've gone over this-,"_

" _I know, I know," Alice interrupted her with a sigh. "Just because it's a possibility doesn't make it fact and even if it is true, it's still not nice to say. Blah, blah, blah, and all that jazz."_

" _What am I going to do with you, child?" Ms. Penny asks with a small laugh._

" _The same thing you've done since the beginning, Ms. P, put up with me."_

_Laughter erupted from downstairs and I held my pillow over my head, trying to find silence so I could fall asleep, so I could forget the joy in their voices._

She had, had a lot of spunk for an orphan and a lot of love for the old woman she teased. I had loved Ms. Penny, but Alice, she had cherished her.

Tears continue to spill from Alice, heavy, heartbreaking cries exploding from her in waves. I can't seem to look away and I'm not quite sure of what I should do or say. This must have been what it felt like to see me fall apart at Charlie's funeral to feel the need to do something, but being so afraid of actually doing it. Still covered in tea, I reach for her cup and set it on the table.

"I'll be right back," I tell her as I pick up the pieces of the broken mug.

I clean up the mess, go to my room, and change my pants before grabbing the comforter off my bed. I don't even think she notices when I slide onto the couch, curling my legs up and resting my head against the back of it as another wave of wailing cries begins. I rest the blanket over us and then, reach forward to place my hand lightly on top of hers, the barest minimum of touch. I ignore the anxious feeling in my gut, knowing that Alice needs my comfort. I let myself cry with her and together we mourn Ms. Penny's loss, the cries from the two of us going long into the night until we both succumb to sleep's incessant pull.


	5. Lost and Found

**Chapter 4**

**Lost and Found**

"Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time."~ Thomas Merton

**EPOV**

I stand alone in the 'Still Life' courtyard, my painting lying face down in the dirt, my insides as empty as before. My girl disappeared in the woods only moments ago and already, I miss her. I miss her scent, her taste, her warmth, but mostly I just miss how she makes me feel whole. I sit back on my stool and lift the painting off the ground to examine it. The entire thing is streaked with dirt, to anyone else it would be ruined, but not to me. Using a brush that I coat in black, I expand the streaks of dirt to create slashes that make the painting appear ripped, almost as if an animal tore into it with long, sharp, dirt-filled claws.

For a while, I just sit there, gazing at the new image. You can still see the head of the unicorn, the bottom of its galloping legs, bits of waterfalls and rock, and to my relief, my girl's drenched head poking out of a pool of water. My distress at seeing her there before is gone, forgotten amidst the joy her presence brought me, and overshadowed by the hollow feeling at her absence. I've finally reached a point where there's no turning away from her. Put quite simply, I would give anything to have her back in my arms, kissing me with abandon, and filling me with life.

A loud, electronic noise cuts through the air around me, and I reach into my pocket to pull out my phone. I see the time displayed at the top of the screen, six-thirty, and I know exactly who's calling, Emmett. Shit… I press the answer button and place the phone to my ear.

"Yeah, I know, Em. I'm getting ready to leave the house right now," I tell him as I scramble to grab my things.

"Whatever, bro, just try not to be too late," he replies with a sigh.

"I'm not going to be late!" I shout at him in defense, balancing everything as I step into the woods in the direction of my apartment.

"Well, see you there then,"

"Yeah, see you there," I go to hang up the phone, but stop when I hear Emmett's voice.

"Hey! Did you get her a present at least?"

I look at the painting in my hand. It's possibly one of my best works, full of raw emotion. It's like someone or something is trying to tear out of their black existence into a fantasy world, full of wonderful things that seem to be just out of reach. I wouldn't give this piece to an average person, someone who wouldn't understand the feeling behind it. So I guess it's a good thing my mother is anything but average. She'll see the true beauty in the still.

"Yep, I got it covered,"

I press the end button and shove the phone in my pocket as realization hits me. She'll see the true beauty all right, along with the sorrow that pours from it. Damn it! I don't have time to paint something else so I can only hope that she doesn't read too much into the image. Particularly excellent curators have a tendency to see into the soul of an artist through their work, and my mom, part-time curator at the Seattle Museum of Art, is one of them. The last thing I need right now is her worrying about me.

When I arrive home, I take the quickest shower that I can manage, rushing through the tedious routine in five minutes time. As I dry off, I multi-task, brushing my teeth and running my fingers through my hair to get rid of the knots. I gave up on combing and styling years ago, it's a waste of time because the bronze mane tends to do whatever it wants. With fifteen minutes left until seven, I throw on a pair of blue jeans and a black button-up. Then I grab my wallet, phone, and painting as I make my way towards the door.

Pulling up into my parent's drive in my Aston Martin Vanquish always seems funny to me. It never fails to make me think of those rich families in the movies, the ones with the butlers, maids, personal chefs, and gardeners. My parents haven't ever had help like that, but that doesn't stop people from thinking they do. When I look at the white, two-story, colonial mansion with the gigantic pillars out front and the long curved drive, it's near impossible not to imagine it myself even though I know for a fact that my mom planted the azaleas in the garden. I watched her do it. I also have no doubt that Emmett came and mowed the lawn last week after arguing with her about doing it herself for the millionth time. It's such a foreign concept these days, for a woman that lives in such extravagancy, to keep up the maintenance to her property herself, but that's just how my mom is.

Even when Emmett, Jasper, and I were little my mom did all the cooking, cleaning, and gardening herself. I concluded a few years back that perhaps she does it all herself as a way to pass the time when my dad is away at work. As dean of the School of Medicine at the University of Washington, my dad works long, arduous hours, but he loves his job, he loves to help people. My mom understands that and loves him regardless. Still, I don't suspect that it makes her any less lonely when she's by herself in the big, empty house with nothing to do. In fact, I think that's why she decided to use her degree in art at the museum when all of her children moved out.

I park the car and enter through the front door. I'm only 5 minutes late. The smell of pot roast, mashed potatoes, green beans, and homemade apple pie fills my nose. I set my gift on the table in the foyer and head to the dining room. Of course, they're already sitting at the table, hands folded, and heads bowed for grace. Mom is at one end of the table in a midnight blue dress, her bronze hair wavy and shiny. Opposite of her sits my dad, who is still in a navy blue suit from work, his blonde hair expertly combed back. Emmett appears burly even in a pale blue button up and khakis, his bronze hair, a few shades darker than mine, curly and short. Sitting next to him is Jasper, whose lanky build is in an identical outfit, his long blonde hair brushed back. It's a perfect family portrait; everyone in matching colors. Well, everyone except me. I suppose I didn't get that memo. I slip into my seat across from Emmett as they finish with a collective 'amen'.

"Nice of you to join us, Son," Dad says, somewhat joking, while spooning a heaping of mashed potatoes onto his plate.

"Sorry,"

"It's alright, dear," Mom assures me as she passes me the green beans, her green eyes sparkling with understanding.

"I guess I got distracted. It won't happen again, promise."

Out of my peripheral vision, I see Emmett roll his baby blue eyes as he shovels a fork full of roast into his mouth. I find that I'm beyond thankful for the food laid out in front of us because I'm pretty sure he would have said something extremely stupid if he wasn't too busy stuffing his face. Something to do with a certain chestnut haired goddess that no one else knows about. God, how I wish they could know, how I wish they could all meet her and learn to love the woman I'm absolutely crazy about, 'crazy' being the operative word. The warm scent of strawberries invades my senses shortly and then, disappears leaving me sorrowful. If only it were possible…

"So how are your classes going, Jasper?" Dad asks while their eyes, both as blue as Emmett's, lock in conversation.

Jasper is taking basic courses at the local community college, trying to figure out a major he'd like to pursue. When he first told Dad that he didn't want to attend a four-year university after graduation earlier this year, Dad was a little disappointed, although he tried not to show it. His thoughts quickly changed however, when Jasper explained to him that he wanted to take some medical classes. Both of them knew there was no way he'd be able to indulge the thought of a medical career if he went to UW, not with Dad's position there. Since Jasper wanted to stay in state, community college became his only option for the time being.

"They're alright, kind of easy though. Then again, it's only the first semester. I suppose it will get more challenging as time goes on,"

Of course, it's just like him to think the classes aren't difficult enough. I let out a soft chuckle as I shake my head. Jasper's the fucking genius among us kids. He probably could have gone Ivy League if he wanted. Honestly, I don't have a clue why he didn't. It's not as if he has a girlfriend or anyone besides his family here in Seattle and he could always visit us. Emmett, who shares a condo with him, doesn't even understand it. I guess that's one of the mysteries of our reclusive little brother.

"Oh, crap!" Emmett shouts, cutting off Dad who was about to speak. "I forgot to tell you about the change in the art show schedule."

"What change?" I ask him, my anxiety building at his nervous expression.

"You need to have the pieces to me by this weekend."

"What?" I exclaim as my fork drops onto my plate. "You've got to be fucking joking, Em. The show isn't for another two weeks!"

"Language, Edward," Mom admonishes, giving me a sharp look that I barely even notice.

"Um, yeah, about that, the gallery kind of…sort of…moved it to next week."

My vision becomes suddenly hazy as my mind absorbs the new information. I have to have four new pieces done and only days to do them...

A growl of frustration falls from my lips as I pinch the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger. The pressure alleviates my anger slightly, but it still takes every ounce of self-control to not jump over the table and strangle Emmett.

"Well, hey, think of it this way, man. It's more time with your girl,"

He did not just do that…

"What girl?" Mom asks, her expression turning to one of intense excitement.

Mother fucking, shit, fuck, damn it, Emmett!

I have the great honor of making Emmett squirm when I glare at him with the look of death. We both know he's stronger, but we also know that I'm far more volatile.

"It's just some girl I've been hanging out with," I reply as calmly as I can while picturing Emmett's bloody murder. I'm sure I could make it look like an accident.

"Oh…well, I hope she's not like that Tanya girl you dated a few years back,"

"No, she's not," I say, adding the rest in my head. Tanya was actually real and not a figment of my imagination.

Tanya, my one and only ex-girlfriend was very real; she was also a two-timing bitch. The relationship lasted a whole four months and by the time it was over, I had lost my virginity, my dignity, and the organ formally known as my heart. The good thing is that shortly after it ended, I realized that I never actually loved Tanya. I started painting my girl and I found my heart. The problem is that the overwhelming love I feel this time is real and the girl isn't.

"May I be excused?" I ask, still some how keeping my voice calm, and my parents nod in agreement.

I clear my plate from the table and escape to the closest bathroom. After splashing some water on my face, I gaze at myself in the mirror. The bags under my eyes are dark from my lack of sleep, and my face that I shaved earlier has a five o'clock shadow. I look thoroughly exhausted. Squeezing my eyes shut tightly and clutching onto the counter I take a series of deep breaths. Strawberries…the scent over powers me, a billion times less potent than it was in 'Still Life' and still, it hits me hard. I can feel her hands roaming my back, the gentle caress of her arms wrapping around my waist, her palms rubbing flat against my chest.

"Edward,"

The sound of her sultry, bell voice saying my name cripples me. It makes my knees buckle, my insides turn to molten lava, and my heart beat rapidly in my chest with need. I need her.

"Can I touch you?" She whispers as her hands move lower, sounding unsure, like she seemed this afternoon in the courtyard. I love this new development. When she acts timid this way, it's unbelievably hot.

"Oh god, please," I groan as I feel her tiny hand unzip my jeans causing my cock to harden instantly.

She slips out my length from the prison of my tight jeans and boxers. Gently, she runs her fingers over it as she normally does, her breath coming out in loud pants while she presses her tits lightly into my back.

"Ugh…more, baby," I plead.

Before this afternoon, no amount of begging in the world would have gotten her to speed up her actions, to touch me with more than a feathery touch. She's always been slow and teasing, soft and gentle, but she's different now. She kissed me so deeply earlier that I know she wants me as bad as I want her. She doesn't just want sweet and slow anymore, that was obvious when she forced my mouth open today. My girl wants it fast and rough too. Her fingers curl around me tightly and my insides flip at the new feeling.

"Like that?" She questions, stroking my cock in her tight little hand with intensity.

"Yes," I hiss out, my eyes snapping open at the exquisite feeling.

The feel of her hand disappears, the scent of her vanishes, and I'm alone with my cock aching in the confines of my jeans. Son of a bitch! I force my eyes to close and try to will her back, but she's gone. Unfortunately, my hard on isn't. With my blood still boiling from her closeness, I tug open the front of my jeans and reach for my throbbing cock.

Fantasizing isn't as good as the hallucination, but it will have to do because I can't walk out of here like this. Gripping myself firmly, I picture her in my thoughts, kneeling before me. She's dressed in her black tee shirt and khakis, eyes wide with innocence as her tongue twirls around my cock.

"That's it baby, ugh," I groan, stroking my length as I imagine pushing into her hot, wet mouth. Her eyes droop from lust when she tastes me fully, and aggressively, she groans for more, a feral need taking over in the heated moment.

Without warning, she pulls me all the way in so that I touch her throat while humming in satisfaction.

"Fuck," I hiss, moving my hand faster as she bobs her head on my cock, sucking, licking, and moaning like I'm the best thing she's ever devoured.

I reach down and pull up her shirt, tugging down her black bra so I can fondle her tits before gripping on to the back of her hair with vigor, wrapping my hand in the tresses of her chestnut brown hair.

"Just like that…shit," I growl, rubbing my thumb over the head of my cock with every stroke.

I watch as she rubs her thighs together, desperate for friction as she whimpers around me, her nipples taut and begging to be touched.

"Touch yourself while I fuck your mouth, baby. Let me watch you," I pant.

She unzips her khakis and slides a hand underneath the black lace of her thong as I grab onto her hair with both hands, guiding her over me with a guttural moan. I admire her as the fingers of her free hand begin to tweak and pull at her nipples causing my mouth to salivate and my cock to twitch on her tongue.

"Oh fuck, yes, that's so hot watching you finger your pussy while you suck my cock," I praise her, running my hands through her hair, and probing deep into her mouth. "Are you close, baby? Are you going to cum for me?"

"Mm," she groans in confirmation as my insides coil and I stroke myself faster, feeling the pull of my muscles as I inch closer to climax.

"Yes, baby, soak yourself while I fill your throat with my hot cum," I pant, tugging on her hair just as she lets out a muffled scream beneath me. "Shit, here it comes, baby."

She hums with anticipation and contentment in my mind, and I clutch the counter with my free hand, my cock stiffening as I near my breaking point. Suddenly, her hand reaches up to squeeze my balls and her tongue presses hard against the under side of my length, sending waves of pleasure throughout my body that push me straight over the edge.

"Ugh!" I cry out, clinging to the counter, my hips rocking with pleasure as cum spurts out onto my palm. My body shakes from the force of my orgasm as I pant tiredly, still gripping my twitching cock.

"Honey, are you okay?" My mom's kind voice says through the door, ripping me from my post orgasm bliss.

"Yeah…yeah, I'm fine! I'll be out in a minute," I reply nervously while I wash off my hands from one of the best fantasies I've ever had. Yeah, I'm completely fine, Mom, just jerking off to thoughts of my imaginary girlfriend, no big deal.


	6. Dark and Empty

**Chapter 5**

**Dark and Empty**

"Loving can cost a lot but not loving always costs more and those who fear to love often find that want of love is an emptiness that robs the joy from life."~ Merle Shain

**BPOV**

_I can't see a thing in the darkness that surrounds me yet I'm comfortable. I'm content with the blindness because its better this way, at least I can't see the dangers that I know lurk in the shadows. The small divots in the dirt beneath me are familiar, and without guidance, my feet move on the worn path, taking me deep into the nothingness. I have a sense that the direction my feet are taking me is a simple one; a route that's safe and stable that requires no decisions or thought, but it doesn't bother me in the slightest, I have no desire to stray from it._

_It's not until I begin to notice a faint light trickling in on my left that I become uneasy. It's so soft that for a while I don't even believe it's actually there, but when I start to see the silhouette of trees and dense vegetation, it's clear that it is. My anxiety builds as my eyes scan the forest automatically, searching for the horrors that lie within it and though I see nothing, I can't stop looking for what's surely coming for me._

_I break out into a run, still peering frantically into the woods. My heart pumps wildly and my hands sweat as the light brightens and I try to close my eyes, but I can't seem to get them to shut. Fear is practically dripping off me when I find myself at a fork in the road and I have to make a decision. To my right is a beaten path appearing well traveled and shaded. To my left is a brightly lit and rocky walkway._

" _Bella," the velvety smooth voice of my stranger calls out to me from somewhere in the light. My skin tingles and my insides warm at the memory of his touch. Suddenly, there is no longer a choice. I step into the light._

"Bella! Get up!"

Huh? I open my eyes and see Alice standing in front of me with a glass of ice water tipped in my direction and a frantic look on her face. It was just a dream…

"Thank god," she murmurs to herself, putting the glass on the coffee table. "Your alarm has been going off for the past thirty minutes."

"Shit!" I shout, the beeping sound filling the apartment finally triggering a reaction in me.

I jump up from the couch and run to my room where the beeping is the loudest. I'm surprised I haven't gotten any complaints from the neighbors, seeing as how the walls are so thin here. After I slam the off button on the alarm, I frantically pull on a pair of khakis and a black tee shirt, forgoing the shower until later. I'm going to be late for work as it is.

As I make my way towards the door, I notice that Alice is wearing her old clothes and following me with her duffle bag flung over her shoulder, apparently ready to go back to the streets. If Ms. Penny were still alive, she would have found Alice a place to live when she turned 18. She would have helped her to get a job as she had done for me. Ms. Penny would never have thrown one of her girls on the street to fend for herself, so how can I? Is it not an insult to her memory if I don't pay it forward so to speak? A sense of compassion breaks through my hurried moment and I reach into my pocket to pull out my last ten-dollar bill.

I set the money on the counter, placing my key to the apartment on top of it.

"Can you do me a favor?" I ask Alice and she gives me a nod, her face full of confusion.

"Get your stuff unpacked and wash some laundry while I'm at work. I think this might be my last pair of clean clothes."

Alice stares at me for a moment, trying to understand my request before her lips purse in realization.

"No, Bella, I-, I can't,"

"Yes, you can," I sigh, locking eyes with her. "I know I'm not the friendliest person. I hate awkward situations and sharing space with people. I also know that you're outgoing, loud, and you make me extremely uncomfortable at times, but this isn't about my comfort or even yours. This is about doing what is right, and I can't in good conscious kick you out on the street."

"I don't want your pity," Alice says with a half-scowl, appearing as conflicted on the outside as she probably is on the inside.

"This isn't pity, Alice. I'm just doing what Ms. Penny would have done for you if she were here to do it."

I move my gaze from hers; reaching for the doorknob as the feeling to rush enters my system again and I hear Alice's bag drop to the floor behind me.

"Where's the laundry room?"

"It's in the basement." I reply, tugging the door loose from the frame's death grip. "I'll talk to Rosalie about getting you a job at the coffee shop where I work."

"A job," Alice murmurs, mostly to herself, and I'm not sure if it's just my imagination, but her voice sounds sad.

"Yep, a job, the hell hole where you work your fingers to the bone and lose a little piece of your soul for minimum wage."

A tiny laugh escapes her, almost inaudible as I begin to close the door.

"Bella,"

"Yeah?" I ask, poking my head through the door.

"Thanks," she says with a bright smile and I truly feel like I'm doing the right thing.

"Mmhm, you know this doesn't make us friends, right? It'll be just like Ms. Penny's, we'll be room mates and stay out of each other's way," I respond, trying to lay down the line that I'm not willing to cross and hoping she'll comply.

"Whatever you say,"

I watch Alice shake her head as if I'm somehow in denial and I shut the apartment door, jiggling it into place. Great…what have I gotten myself into now?

It's a chaotic morning and a seriously hectic afternoon at work. I don't even have time to talk to Rosalie about Alice because she's running around like a chicken with her head cut off, making sure that everything is perfect for Irina's inspection tomorrow. Once a month, Ms. Denali does a thorough evaluation on Toffee Coffee; thorough meaning that she has psychotic, over-the-top expectations that are impossible for anyone to accomplish even if they were to have some sort of obsessive-compulsive disorder for perfection. One time she actually counted the number of coffee beans that went into a customer's order, twice…

That's why Jake and I are stuck doing overtime in inventory. Normally, I would shut off and do my work as I always do, but for some reason my thoughts fall on the stranger as I arrange cups, count bags of coffee, and stack boxes of our signature strawberry tea. I wonder if he's at 'Still Life' today, why he decided to get all those tattoos, if piercing his eyebrow hurt and if he's pierced anywhere else. I think about the way his arms molded around me perfectly, how soft his lips were against mine, and his cinnamon taste filling me. Eventually, my thoughts fall on more extreme ideas, what it would be like to taste other parts of him, to feel his body slick with sweat, to touch him…

"Are you done over there, Bells?" Jake calls out across the stock room, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Um, yeah," I reply, shaking my head in an attempt to erase the impure images of the stranger who terrifies and excites me from my virgin mind.

Once we've made one last check, Jake and I make to leave for the day. My feet are throbbing, my hair is a mess, and I can no longer smell anything but coffee and strawberries.

"Gees, taking inventory sucks," Jake complains, pulling off his apron and taking out the tie that holds back his long, black hair. "I hate how it never feels like we're ready for Irina's monthly visits. You would think that we'd be used to the exhaustion and mood swings forced on us, but we never are. We're always left cramming things into tight spaces to avoid an overflow of product and praying to be done with it as quickly as possible."

I can't help it; the formation of his words is so funny that I have to laugh…it's been so long that the incredible feeling is almost foreign. My stomach and my chest tighten and release as the waves of amusement run over me.

"What's so funny?" He asks with the biggest smile I've ever seen, and I just laugh harder, the sensation taking over.

When comprehension finally dawns on him, he joins me in my fit of hysterics.

"How in the hell did your mind get so far in the gutter, Bells?" He chokes out through his manly laughs.

"No idea," I lie when the urge to laugh stops and I can say the words without snorting.

I'm not about to tell him, or anyone else, that I was thinking about hot sex with the stranger that makes my blood boil or that I'm suddenly thrilled that I take birth control to regulate my own monthly visitor. No one needs to know that just the fact that I _could_ have him take me for the first time without a barrier makes me wet and dirty minded, even if it will probably never happen. It does make me wonder though. Would he want to? Would I want to? I think about the pull I had to him, that intense need for more and I honestly don't know if I would be able to say no, no matter the consequence. I pull off my apron, clock out, and say a quick goodbye to Jake before walking off into the park, the images of sex with the stranger still burned into my mind.

It's just about 6 o'clock and it's not quite dark yet the park still has the eerie feeling of my dream last night. So much so that my heart slams against my chest as I walk hastily, staring intently at the ground. Strangely enough though, when I finally reach the fork in the path that leads to 'Still Life', I can't seem to quell my curiosity or the overwhelming excitement at the possibility of seeing him, and without hesitation, I turn left. A great deal of thoughts begins to flood my mind as I walk the new path. Why am I doing this? Why can't I stay away? What if he's not there or what if he is? Either way, I have no idea what I'm going to do.

By the time I reach the courtyard, I'm strongly contemplating running, but after a few minutes, I force myself to walk over to his spot. I find it empty and my stomach knots in sadness. What's the point of hurting myself with the light when I'm content with the darkness? I'm content with my life, with avoiding the sting of death and the sorrow that comes from caring about other people. Staring at the empty space where he once sat, I can't convince myself fully. However, as I walk away towards my apartment, I begin to feel more certain about it. With Ms. Penny gone, I have the chance to make a new start, to close off all ties and prevent love from ever affecting me again. I'll do what Ms. Penny would have wanted and help Alice get on her feet. Then she'll move out, I'll move on and the stranger will be a fond yet distant memory.

When I walk through the front door, which is surprisingly not stuck like always, the first thing I see is Alice in the pajamas she wore last night, dancing around the small kitchen to a song that's blasting through my crappy radio. She's stirring a small pot of macaroni noodles, her tiny hips swaying to the beat and her tinkering voice singing along to the song. I can't stop the smile that grows on my face at the joy that's radiating off her, overwhelmed by the fact that I had a part in it.

"Bella!" She screams out my name when she sees me and I force my smile away, ducking behind the walls in my mind as I give her a nod in greeting. "You should have enough time to shower before dinner's done."

On my way to the bedroom, I notice how clean everything looks. The lumpy green couch is set up like a bed with a spare set of sheets, a blanket, and pillows that Alice must have found in the linen closet. The hard wood floors have obviously been swept, the windows are washed, the counters are scrubbed, and even the grime on the walls has been wiped away. When I walk into the bedroom, it takes me a moment to catch my breath. My bed is made, my clothes are folded on top of my purple comforter, and practically every surface has a dull shine. My heart clenches in my chest as I contemplate the hours that Alice must have spent cleaning and I make a conscious decision to go through some of my old clothes for things that might fit her so that I can even the score. After taking a shower in the freshly cleaned bathroom, I change out of my filthy clothes and pull on a comfortable pair of shorts and a nightshirt.

I open the bedroom door and the smell of boxed macaroni and cheese fills the air, making my stomach growl, which is really saying something since I hate that crap. Alice sets the bowls on the table along with some toast and we both sit down to eat. I shovel the warm pasta into my mouth by the spoonful, mostly because I'm starving and it's actually not too horrible, but also in an attempt to deter Alice from conversation. Unfortunately, she doesn't get the hint.

"So, did you find all your clothes and everything okay?" She asks in a chipper voice, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, I did, thanks. I didn't get a chance to talk to Rosalie today so I'm going to try again tomorrow."

"Alright, sounds good," Alice answers, taking a bite of toast and swallowing it before adding more. "I hope you don't mind that I used some pillows and a blanket."

I don't respond, hoping that if I ignore her then she'll stop talking. Once again, no such luck.

"Was he at 'Still Life'?" Alice questions while looking across the table at me with knowing eyes.

Letting out a heavy sigh, I stand up and wash my dish off in the sink before pulling a torn up copy of my favorite book from the beaten up shelf that supports the crappy television in the living room.

"I'm going to head to bed, it was a long day. You're free to read anything you like or watch television if you want. Its primetime so there might actually be something good on," I tell her, adding on the last bit because I don't want my ignoring her to seem so harsh.

"Okay," Alice says, nodding her head while she gives me a small smile. "So he wasn't there?"

"Shut up, Alice," I counter, shaking my head in irritation as she lets out a giggle.

I shut the door to the bedroom and lay down on the bed, opening up Romeo and Juliet to Act I, but I can't get into it at all, not with the stranger so fresh in my mind. Closing the book, I take a deep breath and curl up under my sheets where I toss and turn for a while. Finally, after what seems like hours, I drift to sleep.

_The light is bright around me as I rush forward and emerge in the 'Still Life' courtyard. The full moon is shimmering off the statues, glistening on dewdrops that stick to the cool green grass, and giving a glow to not only the scenery, but also me. I look down, see myself in a white flowing gown that's shinning like a star in the night, and become captivated by the beauty of it. At least I am, until I look up and see something much more beautiful. He's sitting in his place with his easel dressed in the same clothes from before, painting with a palette full of color. I watch from a distance as he strokes the canvas with his brush, soft wavy strokes of brown and light colored ivory, but I can't quite make out the image he's trying to create._

_He seems aggravated, tense somehow, but as I step into view, his face softens. His piercing green eyes connect with mine and in an instant, he's on his feet, rushing towards me. His arms wrap around me, his lips crash onto mine as a soft moan vibrates my lips and my legs begin to tremble, not from fright but longing. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I tug him closer, pressing myself into him as I feel my body sink into his loving embrace. It's so intense, so incredibly intense. I sense the darkness coming, feel its cold grip taking hold of me, pulling him away from me. His lips disappear from mine and his arms slip away from my waist as a cloud of darkness covers the full moon, blanketing the courtyard in black. His touch is gone, his taste is gone, he is gone, and only now is my trembling from fear._

I wake with a start in my empty bedroom, void of light, and suddenly scared of what I can't see, I reach over with a shaky hand to turn on the lamp by my bed. Since when am I afraid of the dark?


	7. Certainty with A Hint of Doubt

**Chapter 6**

**Certainty with a Hint of Doubt**

"I suppose it is much more comfortable to be mad and know it, than to be sane and have one's doubts."~ G.B. Burgin

**EPOV**

After I've cleaned up the evidence of my escapade, I make my way out of the bathroom, grab the painting, and head to the sitting room, where Mom will open her presents. The whole birthday routine is so monotonous that I hardly have to think about it anymore. With each of us, it's always the same event; dinner followed by presents and then, an inquiry of our lives. It's quite simple in Jasper and Emmett's case, who can talk about school and sports. With me, it's a bit more strained; I can't exactly tell my parents that the highlight of my week is when I hallucinate. Even I think I'm fucking crazy, so I can't begin to imagine what they would think if they knew. They'd probably have me admitted to some facility where they'd give me drugs and make it so my girl would never come back…yeah, not happening.

Upon entering the sitting room, I catch Mom's gaze from her spot on the sofa between her other two children, and although it's warm and welcoming, it immediately makes me feel awkward. I'm almost certain she didn't hear anything pertinent from inside the bathroom, and I know, that she would never tell me if she did. Still, my embarrassment over the situation is considerable. I've never been caught in that predicament before, and although technically no one saw me, it does little to curb the disappointment I feel in my ability to hold back my urges. It's pathetic really; I have the restraint of a 15 year old when it comes to my girl.

"Did you fall in, Bro?" Em teases, pulling me from my thoughts as he passes Mom a book-shaped present wrapped in pink wrapping paper.

"Ha, ha," I reply with exasperation, taking my seat in one of the two white armchairs that face the sofa, the one not occupied by my dad.

In an effort to spare the pristine furniture, I make sure the painting is dry before placing it so that it lies gently against the side of the chair, hiding it from view.

"Open it already," Emmett bellows, practically bouncing in his seat as Mom tears carefully at the pink paper, revealing a book on gardening that makes her lips pull into a beaming smile.

"Oh, Sweetie, thank you," she coos, leaning over to hug Emmett as Jasper picks up a medium-sized present, in the same pink paper, off the glass coffee table.

She releases Emmett, who's now radiating with pride, and opens Jasper's gift, which turns out to be a new pair of purple gloves with a matching scarf.

"Thank you, Darling, they're beautiful," Mom says, appraising the smooth cloth in her hands before embracing Jasper with motherly affection.

Tradition dictates that it's my turn, but unlike my siblings, I take my time reaching for the painting and once she releases Jasper, I stretch across the few feet between us to hand it over to her. It takes her only seconds to begin analyzing the piece, as I knew she would. Her eyes furrow in concentration as she examines every inch of the image, no doubt admiring the use of colors, the overwhelming detail in the rocky cliffs, and the rips that still contain granulated pieces of dirt. It's obvious when the emotion of the painting hits her, I can see it on her face; her eyes harden, her lips purse, and the crease on her forehead appears. It's only visible for a brief moment, but that look tells me I'm in for a talk later…great.

"It's lovely," she says finally, a forced smile drawing her lips upward. "I can hang it in the guest room, it will look beautiful there. Thank you, Honey."

I stand and give her a small hug, feeling her arms grip me just a little tighter than normal. She's worried and I have no doubt I'll hear all about it.

Dad normally gives Mom her gift in private so the interrogation portion of the evening begins. Thankfully, Dad takes the opportunity to talk with Emmett about some football game from the other night, saving me from Mom's wrath- for now. I pretty much ignore the conversation; sports have always been an extremely dull subject to me. Emmett, however, lives for the thrill of competition. If allowed, he could go on talking about it for the next few hours, and for once, I'm content to let him. Besides, he rarely gets the opportunity to talk about sports now that he works as my manager. Most of the people he talks to are too busy praising my art to discuss field goals and tackling. I'm sure he misses it terribly, being the center of the conversation. All throughout high school, he was the big man on campus, the star quarterback. Then after graduation, he got his shot at the pros, playing for the Seahawks. It was his passion and his dream. Unfortunately, it was short lived. He only played for a year or so before a knee injury permanently benched him. It was a tough blow for him, physically and emotionally.

"Honey?" Mom's choice endearment for me catches my attention. "Can you help me with the cake, please?"

Ah, so this is how she's going to play it.

"Sure,"

I get up and follow her to the kitchen where the true reason for her request comes to light.

"Is everything okay with you?" She asks as she begins to slice up the unlit birthday cake. We gave up on candles a few years ago when Emmett almost burnt the house down putting trick candles on Dad's cake.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I half lie, unable to give her a better answer.

"Is it this girl you've been _hanging out_ with?" She counters, emphasizing the words 'hanging out' suspiciously, and ignoring my answer. "It's clear there's something you're aching for, is it that you want more with her?"

Seriously, I have no idea how she can read me so well from a fucking painting and one tiny slip up from Emmett. Sure, it's not a perfect guess, but its damn close. The woman has a gift, a strange sixth sense, or something.

"Kind of," I sigh, reaching up to rub the back of my neck. "It's complicated."

Yeah, really complicated, as in she's not a living, breathing human being.

"Hm," Mom hums to herself, plating the chocolate cake before speaking again. "Complications are what make life worth while, Honey. You have to take the bad to get the good. Perhaps, she just needs a bit of persuading."

Balancing three of the plates, I disappear from the kitchen to avoid responding to her. I doubt persuasion works on figments of your imagination.

I spend the next couple of days painting everything and anything I can think of, which means I end up with a large portion of canvases decorated with my girl. One of my private ones actually makes it into the collection for the art show next week, a provocative, but strangely depressing piece. It would be a tragedy not to share it with the world. Besides, all you can see of her is her eyes and mouth so what's the harm in displaying it.

Working late into the night, I get very little sleep, maybe a few hours here and there at most. I suspect she'll show up, but as the hours pass, there's no sign of her. My eyes droop as I set down my brush and step away from my last painting. It's late, or early, I guess, depending on the perspective of the person asked. My art is due today and my girl is still MIA. After slipping out of my paint-covered shirt and pants, I pull on a white wife beater and a pair of sweats. I revel in the comfortable sleeping clothes, but delay going to bed, hoping she'll appear. I'm seriously beginning to wonder if I'll ever see her again. Maybe I really should look into getting some help because my stomach knots at the thought and that can't be a healthy reaction to losing someone I've never actually had. In a moment of clarity, I walk over to the window and open it, taking in the fresh morning air as it wafts into the room, breathing in deep breaths of it. While running a hand through my hair in an attempt to calm my aching chest, I open my eyes and find her chestnut hair and it's like a shot of ecstasy to my system.

The world is suddenly perfect; colors have never been so beautiful, and the air has never smelled so sweet. Without thinking, I climb out of the window onto the fire escape, and begin frantically running down it, desperate to hold her, to feel her body against mine. The sound of the metal ladder banging makes her turn in my direction and as I land on the asphalt of the alley, her eyes grow wide as if she's surprised to see me. However, I'm far too distracted to figure out why. Her khakis are tight on her hips and the cut of her black shirt is emphasizing her amazing tits, making my insides quiver with anticipation of ripping them off her body and licking every millimeter of her strawberry skin.

I force my eyes to stay open, not allowing myself to blink because I just can't stand the thought of her disappearing, not now, not when my cock is rock hard and the memory of her absence is still lingering in me. Giving her no time to contemplate running from me, I sprint over to her and encase her in my arms, slamming her back into the nearest wall as I smash my lips to hers.

So good, she tastes so good. A deep moan escapes her as her eyes fall closed. Her arms wrap around my neck, her hands slide into my hair and when she wraps her sexy legs around my waist, it takes all my strength not to shut my eyes at the exquisite feeling of her hot pussy pressing into my length. Slowly and purposely, she begins grinding on me, moaning like a goddamn porn star and I lose the fight, my eyes shut.

"Fuck, don't leave, don't fucking leave," I beg around her lips, pleading for mercy from her before latching my mouth to the sweet spot just below her ear, providing her with incentive to stay.

"I'm not going anywhere…Fuck!" She whimpers her response and then cries out when I begin sucking on her succulent skin, savoring her taste on my tongue. My arms break out in goose bumps as the words sink in…she's not leaving. She's ready, she's finally ready for rough and fast, hard and impulsive and there is no way I'm going to let this moment slip away.

"Come to bed with me and let me make you feel good…Ugh…Let me fuck you into oblivion, baby," I groan, pawing at her tits as she writhers against me.

Her panting yes is all the answer I need. Pulling her legs from around me, I release her lips with a growl of frustration and tug her to the side entrance of the building. We race up the few flights of stairs to my place, hand in hand without stopping, both of us panting heavily. I open the door and it's impossible to hold back any longer.

"I can't wait any more," I pant, reaching down and picking her up into my arms, one leg under her knees and the other supporting her back.

Her eyes close as a squeal I've never heard her make leaves her mouth and I chuckle at her reaction causing her to blush a deep shade of red.

"God, you're fucking beautiful," I whisper, locking eyes with my girl as she kicks off her tennis shoes. They hit the floor with two distinct thuds and it's almost as if the hallucinatory sounds are louder then I remember them being, but it's just not important right now.

Squeezing her closer to me, I make my way down the hall, pass my studio where the paintings of her cover every surface and into my bedroom that is practically empty except for a king size wooden bed. The morning light that shines into the room gives it an almost heavenly feel that's only intensified by the fluffy white comforter on the bed, and the angel in my arms. It's far more magical than anything I've ever experienced, any hallucination I've ever had before, but it feels right somehow. It's as if God himself is telling me it's all right to be fucking crazy.

Carefully, I carry my girl over to the bed as I caress her lips with mine less forcefully. I still want to fuck her, but it's been so long that I can't help slipping into the romance of it all, the need to worship her. While laying her down on the bed, I slip my hands underneath her shirt and begin to pull up the fabric, watching her chest fluctuate with anxious excitement as I tug it over her head. She's acting nervous, and it's somehow just turning me on all the more.

"Oh god," I groan, at the sight of a simple cotton bra. She's never worn anything like it in my previous hallucinations, but the innocent cloth only makes my heart pump faster and my cock twitch enthusiastically.

My body tingles with longing as she squirms under my heated gaze and slowly she stretches out her needy fingers and begins to trail them down my chest, her eyes taking in everything as if committing it to memory. I watch her hands with fascination as they slide my wife beater up and press against my tattooed abs before yanking the offending thing off me. Her eyes shift in intensity, the deep brown orbs sparkling with lust at my bare chest.

"See something you like, baby?" I tease, my lips turning up in a devilish smirk as I push my pants and boxers to the floor.

My girl's eyes widen more when she takes in my straining cock, metal and skin stretched taut.

"Well, baby?" I continue to tease her as I climb onto the bed on all fours.

"Bella, call me Bella," she stammers, latching her fingers behind my neck and dragging my lips to hers as I groan in shock at her intensity.

She's never given me a name. Bella…beautiful in Italian, of course my twisted psyche would think of such a thing, but the fact that I can call her something even if that name is a product of my own insanity is fucking wonderful.

"Bella," I pant against her lips, losing myself in the overwhelming electricity pulsating through my veins, desperation seeping from my every pore. "Clothes off…now, please."

I reach behind Bella and unclasp her bra, sliding it off and tossing it to the other side of the room. Our hands collide at the clasp of her khakis as we both work to free her from the wretched pants. Fumbling, we get them undone and with all the speed I can muster, I push them off her along with Bella's sexy white cotton underwear.

As I'm sliding back up her body, I can feel the heat radiating from her dripping pussy, and I can see it glistening with her juices, tempting me to take a lick and fuck, I want to so bad. It's something we've never done before though, and I don't want to scare her. My girl's always been all about vanilla sex and I don't want to push her too far before she's ready.

"Fuck, I want to lick your pussy dry," I groan, voicing my request as I grab onto her thighs and capture her terrified eyes. "Please, Bella…"

"Okay," she replies timidly, her entire body flushing rosy pink.

Stretching my tongue out, I run it cautiously up her slit, groaning at how fucking amazing she tastes before sucking her clit into my mouth.

"Holy fuck!" Bella screams, finding my hair with her fingers and bucking her pussy into my face with such intensity that caution is suddenly forgotten.

"Mm," I moan with gratitude into her heat, twirling her clit around in my mouth as she continues to push into my face, coating me in her heady scent.

"Yes, oh god, yes, yes…yes!" She pants, digging her fingers into my scalp as her noises circulate straight to my cock, making me whimper with both pain and pleasure. "More, lick my pussy more, please…ugh."

I lick her ferociously, savoring her tangy strawberry juice as it flows over my chin; licking, sucking, twirling, pulling her to the brink.

"Oh, I'm-, fuck, I'm cuming! Ugh!" She screams, pressing into me like a bitch in heat .

With one single growl, her taste drenches me as she shutters in release and it's too fucking much for my cock to handle. I pull myself up, hovering over her on my knees as I slam into her balls deep. Her body tenses and she's so tight, wet, and warm that I want to live with my cock in her pussy. I don't ever want to fucking leave her heat again.

"Holy shit!" I groan, latching my mouth to one of her taut little nipples as I slide slowly out.

"Ah!" Bella cries, sounding somewhat in pain and my eyes snap open to see her face twisted in discomfort.

"Shit…sorry," I tell her, feeling terrible about thrusting so deep so fast especially because I've always been so careful in the past. "Do you want to stop?"

I don't even know if it's honestly possible right now, but I would do it for her.

"No, keep going, please," she begs, arching her back off the bed so that my face presses into her tits.

Carefully, I begin moving again, thrusting at a slow pace as not to push in too far again.

"Your pussy feels so fucking amazing, Bella," I moan against her skin, reaching out to flick my tongue across her nipple.

"Ugh…m-, more, please," She begs, staring down at me through heavy lidded eyes as she begins to match my thrusts. "I need more."

Reaching down between us, I begin to tease her clit with my thumb and watch as her head tilts back in satisfaction as she lets out a cry of pleasure, driving me forward.

"That's it, Bella," I praise her, leaning back so that I can grope her tit with my other hand. "Tell me how good it feels, baby."

"Oh, fuck, don't stop, more…more!" She whimpers in reply, squirming beneath me as I thrust into her and pinch her clit with my thumb and forefinger.

I have her right where I want her, begging me to keep going, so it's about time she fulfills one of my desires.

"I want to fucking hear you, Bella," I growl, thrusting a bit faster as I catch her gaze. "I want you to say 'Edward Cullen owns me'."

Her eyes flicker with something like surprise, but I pinch her clit harder and she moans loudly, distracted by the feeling.

"Say it!" I demand, my voice rough and commanding.

"Ugh!...E-, E-, Edward Cullen owns me!" She screams as I flick her clit and I can feel her walls throbbing around me.

"Good girl," I praise her, stroking her clit in reward while I pound forward with more force.

"Edward! Yes!"

"Oh yeah, just like that…ugh…scream my name…let me know how much you love my cock buried inside you," I snarl, squeezing her tit as I drill into her and fondle her clit. "Tell me, baby."

"Ugh! I love having your cock deep inside of me," she screams, panting for breath between words as my stomach coils.

"You're close, baby…I want you to fucking drench the sheets with your cum. Cum for me and milk my cock, baby," I groan, as I pinch and rub her swollen clit, my cock stiffening inside her. "Cum, Bella!"

"EDWARD!"

A fresh wave of her fluid seeps out around me and as her walls pulse I thrust balls deep, filling her to the hilt with my own release before crashing onto the bed and panting for air beside her. Exhaustion quickly takes me under, denying me any more time with my spectacular hallucination.

I wake in the middle of the night to an unsurprisingly empty bed, and an odd red stain on the sheets. It looks like blood…what the fuck?


	8. A Chemical Reaction

**Chapter 7**

**A Chemical Reaction**

"The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed."~ Carl Jung

**BPOV**

The sun hangs directly above me as I walk through the park towards home, my work clothes disheveled, and my hair a wild mess. With every step, I think about the excuses that continue to run through my head, the reasons I used to justify leaving the soft, inviting bed of Edward Cullen. His name is actually my third best explanation; I didn't even know it until he was buried inside of me. What kind of man could he be if he would take a woman without even asking her name or sharing his own prior to pounding into her? The only answer I can think is that he's the kind of man that doesn't want to attach himself too deeply to someone, which is a choice I cannot blame him for making. It's a choice I have made for myself that everyone else seems to ignore and I wouldn't ever dream of pushing someone else like that. Although, I suppose in the end, I didn't have to anyway.

An image emerges at the forefront of my mind, the look on his face when he told me his name and demanded that I claim myself as his property, and my legs begin to wobble under me like jelly. At first, I was surprised, up until that point, the words that had tumbled from my lips had been involuntary, desperate pleas for him to please me. So when he commanded me that way, it scared me a little, but then, I looked up and saw that lustful gaze in his eyes, the mixture of hope and shame on his face. It was his reluctance and his embarrassment that were my undoing, I wanted to give him what he craved and when he reacted with praise and utter devotion, it made me feel like a goddess, it made me want to shout his name to the heavens just so I could hear more.

I loved it, I loved how much he hung off my every word, how he thrust deeper and faster when I would tell him exactly what he wanted to hear, how he would tell me everything that ran through his mind, knowing I wouldn't pass judgment on him. The spot between my legs throbs with a sore, but satisfying ache, causing my lips to turn up in a smile against my will. This all leads me to my second best excuse for why I left; it's a dangerous thing for me to be happy.

The moment I saw Edward's eyes close, the ghost of a smile still lingering on his lips, his face softening into a dreamless sleep, my heart fluttered with affection for his sleeping form. I wanted to curl into his arms and live there, build a home in his warm embrace and never leave. That's when it became apparent that I needed to get as far away as possible. For the first time since Charlie died, I wanted to put the protection of my heart, my soul, my very being in the control of a man I barely knew. A man that may never care for me, a man that may have used me, a man that could break my heart, but most of all, a man that I could fall in love with that could possibly love me back, and someday, inevitably, would die.

When I arrive back at the apartment, I find Alice sitting on the couch reading a book that she must have gotten from the library this morning. She doesn't normally enjoy reading, but since we have no cable and there's nothing left to clean, her choices of entertainment are limited. A person can only stand watching infomercials for so long before their brain starts to rot. Her head snaps up as soon as I close the door behind me, her face practically twitching at the excitement of another person. Alice is a social butterfly and being cooped up in the apartment for the past week, without any real companionship, has made her push my boundaries to their limit.

"What are you doing back so early? I thought you worked until two. Did you get fired? Do I still have my interview tomorrow?" Alice asks, her sentences almost blurring together with the speed of her verbal assault before she pauses to observe my untidy appearance. "And what the hell happened to you?"

"No, I wasn't fired," I reply, making a mental note to call Rosalie when Alice takes her shower tonight to make sure of that. "And I really don't want to do this today, Alice, please."

I run my hand across my face in irritation as I walk to the bathroom, doing my best to avoid the puppy dog pout I know is on her face.

"But…but," her tiny voice pleads for interaction as I close the door to the bathroom and start the shower. "Fine! But so help me god, Bella, I will get you to talk and when I do, it's on, girly!"

Ha! I wonder what she would do if she found out that getting "it" on is apparently the perfect way to get me to talk. Then again, she doesn't have the right "equipment" for it. Once again, I can't stop the smile that takes over my lips as I picture Edward's equipment, his long, hard, thick, throbbing, pierced length straining for my touch. It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, a gift from the heavens. A shutter runs through me when I step under the running water and it's not from the lukewarm temperature. My mind appears not to be my own because no matter how much I want to forget his features, they seem to be engraved into my eyelids, and every time I close my eyes, I find myself lost in the memory of him.

As my hands work the shampoo into my hair, I retrace every line of the tribal tattoos that swirl around his abs, across his chiseled chest, wrapping up, around his exquisite shoulders, and down the entire length of his left arm. While I scrub my chest and stomach, I imagine the space between those lines and the colors that fill them, making me want to explore every crevice with my fingers and mouth to discover their secrets. Washing my legs and arms, I recount the music notes on his right forearm that appear sewn into his beautiful skin and remember how they merge flawlessly with a rendition of Salvador Dali's melting clocks on his bicep. It is those images that cause my heart to race, my breath to pick up pace, and my hand to travel down my body to the spot that aches, throbs, and drips for his presence. It is the thought of his shimmering green eyes, velvet voice, sharp jaw-line, and messy bronze hair that bring me to ecstasy while screaming out one muffled 'oh god!' against my hand, and finally, it's the water hitting me at a blistering cold temperature that brings me back to reality, the small bathroom full of my frantic breathing.

Alice follows me as I take a different route to work, avoiding the alley at all costs. It's late afternoon on a Sunday, my normal day off, and so the fact that the traffic in and out of Toffee Coffee is so slow on a weekend day surprises me. It doesn't really surprise me however, when we arrive and I find Rosalie standing by one of the café tables, flirting with a burly, dark- haired man. Wait…is she blushing? Rosalie doesn't blush.

"Oh, come on, let me take you out, baby," the man swoons over her, smiling so brightly that I can clearly see his dimples as she leans forward to rest her hands on his table, putting her chest at eye level with his face.

"Give me one good reason, Mr. Brawny," Rosalie teases him, reaching out a hand to smooth the collar of his flannel shirt.

"Mm, Mr. Brawny, huh? Do you have a lumberjack fantasy, miss-," he looks at her nametag real quick, "Rosalie Hale, or just an obsession with paper towels? Either way, I'm up for it. So what do you think, want to test the durability of a stack of high quality paper towels with me, blondie?"

Oh, shit! Red alert! The last time a guy called Rosalie 'blondie', it did not end well. She shifts on her heels, the blush fading from her cheeks as her eyes flash an icy blue. Here we go again.

"What do I think? I think you should suck a fat dick," she responds, a smile on her pretty face and a cheery tone in her voice as she tips the table in the man's direction, sending hot coffee onto his lap.

"Jesus!" He exclaims jumping up from the table as Rosalie tosses him a stack of napkins.

"Oops, my bad, you know how klutzy us blondes can be," she replies with a giggle.

I expect the stranger to leave, storm out in a rage at the appearance of Rosalie's bitchy other half, but all he does is smile and wipe off the coffee from his pants. After they're clean, he walks over to the table that Rosalie is washing, whispers in her ear, and hands her what looks like two tickets to something. Then, he makes his way to the exit with a confidant stride, without bothering to look back and watch the grin that emerges on Rosalie's face or the fresh blush that flusters her cheeks.

"Oh my god!" Alice squeals next to me and my heart sinks into the pit of my stomach.

"What the hell?"

I plead silently to the universe for Alice not to fuck this up, as my boss turns in our direction to discover who produced the squeal.

"Oh, it's you," Rosalie declares, when she sees Alice and me standing just a few feet away. "This must be Alice."

"What did he say?" Alice blurts in question as I let out a groan.

"What?" Rosalie asks, her eyebrow lifting in confusion.

Alice practically prances over to Rosalie, her tiny limbs vibrating with the possibility of talking to another human being, and I know I'm in trouble. Oh god, no, Alice, you need this job. I need you to have this job.

"What did Mr. Brawny say before he left you in a puddle of melted bliss over his dimply faced deliciousness? Does he want to see you again? Are you going to go out with him?"

I'm just about to crawl under a table and dig myself a hole to die in when Rosalie bursts into a fit of laughter. My body tenses, hoping this is a good thing.

"Oh, you are going to be a blast," Rosalie says, pointing at Alice once she calms herself down. "Irina's going to kick my ass for this, but I want you in here bright and early with Bella tomorrow, and bring you're high spirited, nosey little attitude with you, our customers will love that shit."

My mouth drops open as the words sink in, and Rosalie reaches in her pocket to pull out the tickets that the man gave her.

"Here, take these too, I'm going to make Mr. Dimply grovel a bit more," she hands the tickets to Alice and goes back to wiping down the table, murmuring mostly to herself. "HA! Dimply faced deliciousness…fucking fantastic."

"Well, that went well," Alice states as we leave Toffee Coffee. "Hey, they're tickets to an art show tomorrow, we can go after work."

Honestly, I'm so surprised at what happened just a few moments ago that I don't even second-guess agreeing to the idea. Besides, in a couple weeks she'll be out of my hair for good anyway.

We make it back to the apartment in time to watch a bit of Sunday night television before dinner, and then, I sneak off to my bedroom for some alone time. Edward is still plaguing my thoughts, and so I end up taking care of myself again. My self-induced orgasms aren't nearly as good as they once felt prior to having him inside of me, and I wonder if it's always better with someone else or if it's just Edward that my body longs for now. Either way, it sucks...

I wake to the sound of Alice's voice in my ear telling me to 'Wake up all ready!', and open my eyes to find her standing at the side of my bed, dressed and ready to go. Peering over at the clock, I let out a groan of disappointment before climbing out of my bed and throwing on my clothes. It's only 4:45, but I suppose I should be glad that Alice came to get me up early, considering we'll have to take the longer path to work now to avoid the alley, but all I can think is that I just want another 15 minutes of sleep.

Thankfully, Alice is silent on the walk to work and other then being slightly nervous she appears fine. I was a bit concerned when I first mentioned her getting a job and she seemed sad. I'm glad to see that her anxiety is mostly gone now. The line for Toffee Coffee wraps around the block by the time we get there. Rosalie is taking care of the register, and Jake is making the coffee like always.

"Hey Doll Face," Jake calls out to Alice as he grinds something in the blender, giving her a wink.

Alice giggles and a weird sensation runs over me, I feel mad at Jake all of a sudden. I mean why would he say hi to her and not to me, that's our thing…I shake my head at the thought. Why do I care anyway? I grab two aprons, one for myself and one for Alice. Then, I show her how to clock in before I join Jake on the line and Rosalie starts training Alice on the register. Jake tries to give me one of his beaming smiles, but I can't help glaring at him in response before letting my brain drift to thoughts about Edward. Edward would never ignore me like that. Well, at least I don't think he would, would he? I really don't know a thing about him and once again, I can't understand why I care anyway.

As the hours pass, I continue to give Jake the cold shoulder, ignoring his usual attempts at making me smile. I know that I'm not jealous of his attention to Alice in any kind of sexual way, but he's been my closest connection to having a friend in years. How could he be so inconsiderate of my feelings? Doesn't he realize that he totally ignored me to pay attention to Alice, who doesn't need another shoulder to lean on because she has me? Is my best just not good enough for these people? Ah! Seriously, why in the fucking hell do I care anyway?

I'm seething with pent up anger and confusion over my feelings about Edward, Alice, and Jake when Rosalie makes me take over the register so Jacob can teach Alice some things about making coffee before our shift is over for the day. She slaps his arm playfully, he feigns hurt, and they laugh, joke, and just all around make my skin crawl with rage until finally the clock strikes two. Alice and I change quickly into black dresses that she brought along for the art show, but my fury only heightens when we come out of the bathroom and find Jake waiting for us.

"Just thought I would walk you fine ladies out," he says, his pearly white teeth showing in a grin.

When he holds the door for Alice, I feel the sudden urge to stomp my feet like a five year old and hold my breath, instead I do something I never thought I would do.

"I'm so excited to go to this art show. Where is it at?" I ask Alice, pretending to be overjoyed at the prospect of going.

"Me too! It's just a few blocks away," she responds, turning away from Jake so fast that I smirk in triumph.

Eat that, Jacob…

He shrugs his shoulders waving goodbye before turning to walk off, and as soon as Alice and I are alone again, I start to realize how crazy I've been acting. I mean there must seriously be something wrong with me to have gone that insane over something so utterly ridiculous. I can't wait until Alice moves out, I need my solitary life back before this somehow gets any worse.

When we get to the art show, I separate myself from Alice immediately, seeking out one of those free trays with champagne. I hate the way it tastes, but boy, do I love the way it makes me feel. After a couple of glasses, I'm quite tipsy. I try my best to keep myself from stumbling as I look at the art on the walls. I've never really appreciated art before, but something about each brush stroke of each piece makes me desperate to understand it all, to solve the riddle behind the artist's work. I actually spend a while just staring at one particular still. It appears that I'm looking down a well, a dark, deep well. I wonder what's at the bottom. Then, I wonder if it really is a well, maybe it's a tunnel. Is there a light at the end of it? I read the name of the picture below, looking for an answer, 'Seek'. Well, that doesn't really help; I was all ready doing that.

"Bella, come look at this," Alice's voice shakes me from my thoughts and I search the crowd around me, finding her gazing at a glorious painting of a woman covered in strips of black leather and white lace with nothing but her lips in a sad smile and her deep chocolate eyes visible beneath the fabric. "Her eyes look just like yours."

"Yeah, right," I scoff, admiring the never-ending orbs of brown, and shaking my head. "My eyes are shit brown, Alice."

"Whatever," Alice sneers. "Do you think the artist is into that BDSM shit?"

I look at the image for a few moments and shake my head.

"No, I don't think so," I reply, pursing my lips in sorrow at my conclusion

"Fine, smarty pants, what does it mean then?" Alice asks, pushing me to share and causing me to let out a sigh.

"If I tell you can we go home because honestly, I'm feeling kind of drunk?" She gives me a nod. "It's a portrait about the interweaving nature between lust and innocence. The girl feels trapped by it, unable to escape one of those qualities without either being a whore or a prude, but also unable to get rid of both. Basically, the girl is seen only as an object of desire. She's hiding her true self from the world for fear that if she uncovers herself that someone will see she's really nothing special. She's blocking out the world; stuck in limbo between fantasy and reality. That's what it means."

Both Alice and I look at the title of the piece, 'Limbo'.

"Ha!" I laugh at Alice as she pouts, and then, we head towards the door.

"Hey Bella?"

"Yeah?"

"Jake told me you weren't at work Saturday...so where were you?"

I don't know if it's the alcohol in my system or what, but I decide to answer her with as much honesty as I can manage.

"Um, let's just say I had a rough morning and it made me a bit sore, okay?" I answer, my cheeks flushing a bright shade of red as we pass through a sea of people. A brief glimpse of bronze hair flashes in my peripheral vision, but when I look, nothing is there... Must be the alcohol.


	9. A Kick in the Teeth

**Chapter 8**

**A Kick in the Teeth  
** "You may not realize it when it happens, but a kick in the teeth may be the best thing in the world for you."~ Walt Disney

**EPOV**

I crawl out of bed and capture the sheet in my hand, gazing at the small red spot in the dim glow of my bedside light. I scan my legs and torso for injury, running my fingers softly over my skin, but there's nothing, not even a tiny scratch. My mind is still jumbled from sleep as I recall the events of the morning. I remember Bella of course, beautiful Bella panting beneath me, bringing me to sweet release before I passed out from fatigue. My sweet hallucination finally came after days of non-stop painting. Wait, I was painting! Still clutching the fabric in my hands, I take off down the dark hallway and throw open the door to my studio. There, sitting on the easel, is my latest work. It's a tunnel or well of some sort, a swirling pit of browns, blacks, and reds, including a distinct blood red…paint; the stain on the sheet is paint. Well, of course it is, what else would it be? I shake my head at my crazy reaction as I spray some stain remover on the sheet and toss it into the washer.

I'm too awake now to go back to sleep so I pull on a pair of boxers, and head into the kitchen to make myself a sandwich; lettuce, tomato, red onion, Swiss cheese, turkey, and ranch on toasted bread. As I put everything away, I take a glance at the clock, 2:00 am. What kind of person wakes up at 2:00 am, and spends the time that they should be sleeping to wash laundry and make a sandwich? I ponder my own question, taking a bite of the sandwich. It's delicious, and when it hits my stomach, I let out a moan of approval. I try to remember the last time I ate…two days ago. Ah ha, so that's who wakes up at 2:00 am! The psycho fuck that's been so busy painting and hallucinating that he forgot to eat. Its official, I've lost my damn marbles. I walk over to the liquor cabinet and pull out a bottle of Jack Daniels. Well, might as well do this shit thoroughly. I pour myself a glass of Jack and coke before stumbling into the living room, and flopping down on the couch. Bring on the mind-numbing, late night infomercials!

After an hour or so of watching how I can tone my already tone body with a Bowflex tread climber, downing my first glass of Jack and coke, and moving the sheet to the dryer, a new ad comes on.

"Call now and you'll get the ultra soft, ultra warm, Snuggie for only $14.95, available in royal blue, sage green, and burgundy. As an added bonus you'll also receive our compact press and open book light…"

Um, really? It's just a robe put on backwards. How in the hell do people make money off this crap? Since when is a blanket that inconvenient? God forbid someone actually has to free their hands from a blanket to grab a remote, and what if you wanted to jerk off, you'd have to take your hands out of the sleeves. Now that's inconvenient. I press the channel button on the remote and stop at another ad. Oh, my god, what the fuck?

"The shake weight is based on a completely new workout technology called dynamic inertia which ignites the muscles in your arms, shoulders, and chest so you feel them tightening and toning instantly, giving you visible results in just six minutes a day…"

I break out in a fit of laughter at the image on the screen; a woman on her knees, holding a dumbbell that jerks back and forth towards her face as she smiles at the camera. A completely new workout, my ass, she could achieve the same results giving a handy. When I get to a point that I can contain myself, I take a couple swigs of my drink, and flip through the channels some more. The hours pass as I drink and watch ridiculous infomercials, and by the time the sun comes up, I'm asleep on the couch with my leg wrapped around the back of it, and drool dripping from my mouth.

A smack to the side of the head wakes me, and I shoot up into a sitting position as my eyes lock on my gorilla-sized older brother, whose lips are pursed in what appears to be a very pissed off expression.

"Jesus Christ, Em, are you trying to give me a fucking heart attack?" I shout at him while I attempt to calm my racing heart and steady my uneven breaths.

My head pounds in protest of my drinking from earlier and I let out a groan, pressing my face into the palm of my hands. At least I got some sleep out of it…

"Looks like you had quite a night, little brother," Emmett says, gazing at the coffee table covered in empty glasses and the drool on the couch. "I'll be sure to let the gallery know that you missed our meeting because you were too sloshed to get up."

What meeting…Oh, fuck! We're supposed to meet with the gallery owners at 11 to hand over my paintings and discuss placement of the pieces.

"Shit! What time is it?" I ask, jumping up from the couch and running towards the bedroom, my head throbbing in objection with every step.

"It's 10:30 so you better hurry the fuck up, you've got 10 minutes before we have to leave," he responds, following me into the room.

He pulls my black suit from the closet as I run into the adjoining bathroom, start the water in the shower, and begin brushing vigorously at my teeth. I don't even give the water time to warm up before I get in, and frantically scrub my hair and body. Within just a few minutes, I'm drying off and shaving the three-day-old stubble on my face. I actually like my stubble this length, but Emmett says the gallery owners aren't the type to appreciate my scruffy look. Thankfully, I don't have to remove my eyebrow piercing though, I feel naked without it.

"You need to stop doing this shit, you need to talk to someone other than me," Emmett says while I pull on my dress pants and white button up. "I shouldn't have let you blow off Mom at the dinner; she would have figured it out like I planned."

"You fucking did that shit on purpose?" I yell, my eyes burning with anger. He damn near made me lose Bella, my girl, my reason for living. How could he do that to me?

"Of course I did!" He shouts back at me, taking a step in my direction as if to challenge me. "You need to get some help. I can't be around all the time. I have a fucking life, you know, and you make it difficult to live it when I'm worrying about whether you're too exhausted to function or hallucinating about some chick. Not to mention, you seem to have taken a liking to alcohol. Six glasses of Jack and coke, seriously? Drinking while you're alone is one thing, but getting completely drunk by yourself is fucking dangerous, Edward. I can't watch you every minute of the day and night!"

"Then don't! I didn't fucking hire you to be my babysitter. In fact, the only reason I hired you at all was because you had to drop out of the NFL and I felt sorry for you. If you weren't family, I would have never given the job to a moron like you," I reply defensively, the words falling from my lips venomously and without remorse as I slip my arms through the sleeves of my suit jacket.

I don't even have time for my muddled brain to tell me what is happening before Emmett's fists clutch tightly around my collar, pulling on the fabric, and making it hard to breathe.

"You listen to me and you listen good, you little arrogant piece of shit. I may work for you, but I'm still you're much bigger, much stronger, older brother. So if you want to continue having the wonderful life you've been living along with the ability to move your arms and legs you will never say anything like that again, got it?"

He releases my collar, shoving me back a foot or so as I realize how wrong my words were. Emmett isn't a moron. He's actually a great manager, and sure, I wouldn't have given him the job if he wasn't my brother, but it doesn't mean that I have the right to make him feel like shit about it. I scramble to apologize.

"Shit, man, I'm sorry. I-, I shouldn't have said that stuff." I run a hand through my hair and then, straighten up my tie and collar. "I just got angry with you for pulling that stunt. I can't risk losing my girl. I need her in my life right now, whether she's real or not, and I expected you to stand by my decision as my manager, brother, and friend."

He keeps his face blank as he gives me a nod of acceptance.

"You're not a moron, Em. I owe a lot of my success to you," I add and a genuine smile curves his lips up slightly. "Heck, I don't know how I would live without you."

"Neither do I," he mumbles, quickly averting his sad eyes from me to look down at his watch. "Now hurry the fuck up. Arguing with your punk ass has taken up the rest of your ten minutes."

We both rush to the studio, take a hand full of the paintings that I set aside for the art show, and leave for the meeting, the tension lessened somewhat, but our friendship still strained. I know this is hard for him, that he doesn't understand what I'm going through. I don't even understand it myself. All I know is that Bella is important and whatever I have to do to keep her, I'll do.

After the long ass meeting with the gallery owners, Emmett tries to get me to go out for a cup of coffee at the hyped up coffee shop around the corner from my place.

"Come on, bro, I hear there are some sexy chicks that work there. Jasper said he goes in there all the time and there's always a hot little brunette or a flirty blonde behind the counter," he says, removing his suit jacket and button up before pulling on a red plaid shirt over his white undershirt. I give him an exasperated look. "Alright, so he said there is an attractive brunette with a shy smile who makes a delicious cup of strawberry tea and a beautiful young blonde who makes him uneasy with her advances because he's some sort of weird refined gentlemen or secretly playing for the other team…whatever. Just come get a cup of coffee with me and we'll check it out."

"No thanks, Em, I'm going to watch some television and try to get to sleep at a decent hour tonight. The last thing I need is a cup of coffee keeping me up," I reply, pulling the handle on the door of his jeep.

"Fine…," he pouts, "Go crawl back into your pit of solitude then, but if I see any cute girls I'm giving them tickets for the show, it wouldn't hurt for you to meet a real woman. I call dibs on the feisty blonde though."

With a sigh, I slam the door to his jeep before flipping him the bird as he leaves the car parked and walks toward Toffee Coffee. I doubt the owner of that over-priced café is going to have any hot chicks working the counter on a Sunday afternoon. Besides, none of them would be good enough next to my Bella.

When I wake up the next morning, I can feel my stomach knotting with anxiety. It's Monday, the day of the art show, and I can't help being nervous. I always get this way when strangers are going to be looking at my art and it doesn't really help my nerves that I haven't seen Bella since Saturday morning. She's always had a way of calming me down, and without her around, it's getting more and more difficult to function. Then again, every thought that runs through my mind is about being with her, touching her, and tasting her so that might be why I'm having a hard time keeping myself together. After taking a shower, I decide to take a walk down to 'Still Life', hoping to regain some of my sanity or at least a sense of normalcy. My routine has been off lately with all the stress of the show and I miss my schedule. Okay, that's a lie…I miss her and I'm praying she'll be there. Trying to deny it is pointless. I don't even bother to take my painting supplies with me.

Sadly, all that's waiting for me is disappointment when I arrive, and by the time I get home, I'm frustrated tremendously. Where the fuck is she? Throwing myself on my bed, I shut my eyes and imagine her lying on it as she did only two days ago. Her chestnut hair fanned around her blushing face, her mouth open and closing in whimpers, pants, and screams of pleasure. I imagine that I can still smell her on the pillows, taste her on my tongue, and feel her body wrapping around mine, and it makes me both instantly hard and angry. How could she abandon me like this when I need her to be with me so badly, when I need her to hold me together?

Tanya's face comes to mind, deflating the ache in my jeans. She abandoned me once too, abandoned me when I needed her the most.

I force myself out of the bed and walk to the bathroom to splash water on my face. Bella is not Tanya; she will never be Tanya. I can't help hitting the counter with my fist when I realize how true that statement really is, she'll never be like Tanya because she isn't real.

At noon, I get ready to leave the house, pulling on a pair of gray slacks and a navy blue button up before heading to the parking garage and climbing into my sleek Aston Martin. I could walk to the gallery if I wanted to, but what's the point of owning an amazingly hot car if I never drive it? My heart begins to race as I pull into the parking lot and my stomach twists and crunches with my increasing nervousness. For the billionth time today, I wish Bella were here so that I wouldn't have to face all these people alone. I don't even care that I wouldn't be able to sneak of to hallucinate some sleazy encounter in a broom closet; at least she could distract me.

"Ah, Mr. Cullen, your manager called and told me to inform you that he would be here shortly. He's running a little late," says the head coordinator, a short bald man whose name I can't remember, when I enter the building.

"I have no idea why he couldn't just call me, but thank you for letting me know," I reply, giving his grubby hand a shake. "Is there anything I can help your staff set up?"

Please say yes, I need some sort of a distraction.

"Oh, no, sir, just relax and let the staff do their job. If you would like, I can get you something to drink, Mr. Cullen. Anything you might like; water, soda, coffee, champagne, wine, maybe a cold beer?" he says, and I'm surprised he can see with his head so far up my ass.

"Please, call me, Edward," I respond, hoping that maybe he'll remove his head from its current position and actually treat me like a normal person. "And water would be great, if you could show me to where it is I'll just grab one for myself as not to inconvenience you."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all, Mr.-, Edward, I'd be more than happy to get it for you," the man tells me, quickly hurrying off to no doubt get me some weird, ultra-purified, high-end drinking water.

After he comes back with an expensive crystal glass of water, I thank him and begin to wander the halls of the building aimlessly, waiting for Emmett. I find myself at the one painting on the wall that doesn't make me want to vomit with anxiety, the one of my Bella covered in white lace and black leather. Without her here, the image is the only thing that seems to be keeping me grounded. Emmett arrives about a half hour prior to the front doors opening, looking frantic in a gray suit.

"There you are," he says, running up to me and shaking his head at the painting in front of me. "Dude, tonight's important so please save the hallucinations for later."

"Fuck you! You don't think I know how important this show is. I'm the one who got here an hour and a half ago."

"Hey, it took me forever to find the perfect suit to match my eyes, and I wasn't talking about the show, numb nuts. The show is going to be fine. I'm talking about Rosalie Hale,"

"Rosalie Hale?" I ask, my eyebrow lifting in question.

"The feisty blonde from the coffee shop," he says with a beaming smile. "I gave her tickets for tonight."

"Fantastic…" I roll my eyes. "I'm concerned about my future career as an artist and whether or not anyone is going to like my new work and you're worried about impressing some girl. I take back what I said earlier, you really are a moron."

Emmett punches my arm and I punch him back just as the short bald man comes to tell us their opening the door.

"It's all going to be good, Eddie, trust me," he places an arm on my shoulder and squeezes me against him.

"UGH! Don't call me Eddie!" I growl and he squeezes me tighter as he presses his knuckles into my hair…jackass.

For the first half hour of the show, things are boring; I mingle and talk to random people while trying to sound interesting and thoughtful as Emmett talks with potential clients, constantly scanning the crowd for the blonde. It's all very dull and annoying until a tinkering voice cuts through the monotony.

"Bella, come look at this,"

I follow the sound of the voice and a ways away, blocked off by a sea of people, I find a tiny girl with medium-length black hair, standing in front of the portrait of my girl and waving someone in her direction.

"Hey, Eddie,"

"Shh!" I shush Emmett as he comes up behind me and with confusion on his face, he looks in the direction of my gaze.

I watch mesmerized as the person steps forward and I feel as if my whole world stops moving.

"Holy shit, she's real," Emmett murmurs, but I can barely hear him over the drumming of my heart. It's her…it's my girl.

Without thinking, I move myself a few steps closer to the two girls and listen as they interact with one another, discussing my work. I don't know why, but I can't seem to make myself move any closer. I'm far too curious, too determined to discover if this is truly happening, if my girl's really standing in the same hall as me, breathing the same air as me, talking to an actual person, and being noticed by other people.

"Her eyes look just like yours," says the tiny girl.

"Yeah, right," my beautiful Bella scoffs, her eyes appearing sad as she shakes her head. "My eyes are shit brown, Alice."

I want to tell her that they're anything but that, her eyes are the windows to the universe, I could drown in their chocolate warmth and die a happy man.

"Whatever," Alice sneers. "Do you think the artist is into that BDSM shit?"

She looks at the image for a few moments and I take a deep breath, releasing it when she shakes her head.

"No, I don't think so," Bella says, her bell like voice full of sorrow before she purses her lips.

"Fine then, smarty pants, what does it mean then?" Alice asks, causing Bella to sigh a heart-warming sigh.

"If I tell you can we go home because honestly, I'm feeling kind of drunk?" Me too, baby, me too. I feel fucking wasted by her presence and knowing that she's not just a figment of my imagination, she's real…she's fucking real.

"It's a portrait about the interweaving nature between lust and innocence. The girl feels trapped by it, unable to escape one of those qualities without either being a whore or a prude, but also unable to get rid of both. Basically, the girl is seen only as an object of desire. She's hiding her true self from the world for fear that if she uncovers herself that someone will see she's really nothing special. She's blocking out the world; stuck in limbo between fantasy and reality. That's what it means."

The world begins moving again as my heart slams against my chest, sputtering intensely, and involuntarily, I move forward, following them towards the door.

"Hey Bella?" Alice asks.

"Yeah?"

"Jake told me you weren't at work Saturday...so where were you?"

"Um, let's just say I had a rough morning and it made me a bit sore, okay?" Bella answers, her cheeks flushing a bright shade of red.

I come to a dead stop a good distance behind them as my heart plummets into my stomach and everything clicks into place, the look on her face when I found her in the alley, the discomfort when I thrust into her, the surprised expression when I told her to say my name. Oh no, no, please tell me I didn't. Then, I remember the stain on the sheets and I know that I did…oh fuck me.


	10. Walk Beside Me

**Chapter 9**

**Walk Beside Me**

"Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend."~ Albert Camus

**BPOV**

One-step, two-step, whoops…curb. I snort out a laugh as I slip on the cement edge and stumble out into the street. Luckily, it's still relatively early in the afternoon so there aren't that many cars on the road.

"Let's try and stay out of the street, drunkie," Alice says, latching her tiny hand on my arm and walking me back onto the sidewalk. My stomach knots uncomfortably at the contact and I try to keep the bile from rising in my throat as I yank my arm away.

"No touchy," I say sternly before giggling at the sound of the word 'touchy' and repeating it several times, my drunken laughter filling the air.

I can't help it; it's just so funny. In fact, everything is funny, every word I say, every wobbly step I take, and every thought that runs through my head is hysterical. I know it has to be the alcohol in my system making me act so strange, but it's as if I have no control over it. Charlie used to call this a stage 2 drunk. When we first had the 'say no to drugs and alcohol' talk, he used the stages to explain the effect alcohol has on people. Stage 1 is when someone starts to feel a bit tipsy, but is mostly in control, as I felt at the art show. Stage 2, the level I'm at now, is when someone knows what they're doing, but they can't seem to stop themselves from doing it. Stage 3 is when the danger starts to set in; the individual doesn't realize what they're doing anymore. Finally, stage 4 is the point where someone blacks out, and an ambulance needs to be called. It's a thin line between fun and tragedy. Up until this point, I never ventured pass Stage 1.

"How many glasses of champagne did you have?" Alice asks, when I nearly run into my fifth tree. My legs are so wobbly that it's like walking in one of those wacky fun houses with the moving floors.

I try to remember, looking down at my fingers and counting the glasses off as I recall them. One…twelve…four…nine…

"Eleventy," I reply triumphantly, holding up five fingers as Alice shakes her head at me.

Okay, so drunk me is not the best at doing basic math. Hell, it's not even really math, it's counting, two year olds can count, the Count on Sesame Street can count, but get a couple drinks in me, and it's suddenly a superhero ability like firing laser beams from my eyes. I wonder if that would burn.

"Well, I don't know about the laser beams thing, but I never liked the Count on Sesame Street, vampires give me the creeps," Alice declares with a laugh. Holy crap, can she read my mind? Alice? Can you hear me? "Of course I can hear you, stupid, you're talking out loud."

"Oh, well I suppose that makes more sense," I giggle, dodging a collision with a traffic pole at the last second before a flood of useless information escapes me, my words slurring together a little. "Cookie Monster was always my favorite. Now a days, they have him trying to teach kids that cookies are only a sometimes snack though, which is a bunch of bullshit. Cookie Monster loves cookies not vegetables."

"Damn right! When we were younger Cookie Monster actually lived up to his name," she says, and then stops abruptly, looking at me incredulously. "Wait a minute! You're only two years older than I am, and I just turned 18 a few months ago. You're not old enough to drink!"

A blush flushes my skin as I realize she's figured me out. At least it was her and not the people with the trays of booze. She smirks at my heated face and I shrug my shoulders. Well, I try to shrug my shoulders, I'm not quite sure if I succeed because my body sways to the side and I have to counter the movement by swaying to the other side.

"Oh, once you sober up a bit, you're so going to spill about that, missy."

Alice leads the way into the park and I groan in protest, stumbling behind her. One-step, two-step, branch!

My head jolts forward as I grasp the sides of the toilet and vomit for what seems to be the hundredth time. I feel like my body is turning itself inside out at this point, but the world has finally stopped spinning, which is good. Apparently, stage 2 is too much for my lightweight body. The moment we walked in the door, I had to race to the bathroom. Thankfully, Alice caught and held my hair just before I had the opportunity to puke all over it. She was nice enough to put it into a ponytail and then, she disappeared, the grotesque sight was too much for her to handle.

"Ugh! Water, please!" I whimper, flushing the toilet.

Alice walks in, handing me a glass of water and I rinse my mouth out before taking a few sips.

"Thanks, I think I'm done," I groan, carefully pulling myself to my feet and reaching for my toothbrush.

I have control again and I don't think I'm going to vomit anymore, even though I'm nauseous. After brushing my teeth, I walk slowly out of the bathroom and towards my room, my feet shuffling across the floor. I just want to crawl into bed and go to sleep now. Unfortunately, Alice is far too curious to allow that.

"So spill, drunkie, how'd you get away with boozing it up?" She asks, following me into the room as I pull out my pajamas and slip them on. I'm feeling far too crappy to care if she sees my goodies. Besides, we both have the same parts; it's not as if she's going to see something new. "Do you have a fake id or something?"

Her voice is excessively loud and my brain is starting to throb with the threat of a headache.

"Ugh, can you tone it down a notch, Ali?" I ask, grabbing two Tylenol from the bottle on my nightstand and downing them.

A huge smile spreads across her face as she stands motionless across the room and after a few moments, it starts to freak me out.

"What?" I say exasperated, eyeing her like a crazy person because she's truly acting like one.

"You called me Ali," she says, her voice soft and her eyes twinkling with unshed tears. "No one has called me that since Ms. Penny and you never used my nickname before."

Son of a bitch! I can't believe I did something so stupid. Stupid alcohol is fucking with my brain.

"Oh, shit, I'm sorr-"

"No, don't be, I'm glad you did. I missed it," Alice interrupts my apology, wiping at her eyes with the smile still on her face. "Now, quit avoiding the question. How'd you get away with it?"

I let out a sigh and flop down on the bed.

"Confidence," I answer, wrapping myself in the comforter. "These college kids came into work talking about buying liquor one time. One of them was telling the others that all you need to do is act confident about it and they most likely won't even card you. Turns out the kid was pretty smart."

"Oh," Alice's lips press into a line at the not so exciting explanation.

I set my alarm and look at the time. The clock says its 6 o'clock, but it might as well say 12 because I feel like my eyelids are burning.

"Going to sleep now," I grumble, pressing my face into the pillow.

"Hey Bella, do you have any scissors around?"

"Yeah?" I reply in confusion, my reply coming out as more of a question than an answer. Supporting myself with my forearms, I lift my head out of the pillow and raise an eyebrow at her.

"If I wanted to kill myself or murder you in your sleep I would use a knife like a normal psychopath, Bella," Alice announces, rolling her eyes.

"Fair enough," I shrug, relaxing my arms so I fall back onto the bed. "It's in the sewing kit on the top shelf of the closet."

The door closes, my eyes shut, and in two seconds flat, I'm out.

The obnoxious sound of my alarm wakes me the next morning and my head does not appreciate the loud noise. I smack the off button so hard that it actually makes the clock tip sideways on my nightstand.

"Oh god…holy crap…kill me now," I protest at the movement of my aching muscles while I slide off the bed. Everything hurts as if I've been run over by a semi.

I'm lost in my own world of grumbling and complaining while I shower and dress for work, but I'm jolted into reality when I find Alice sitting at the table, eating a bowl of frosted flakes. It's not the fact that she's using the last of the milk that makes my mouth drop open though, it's her hair! She must have put the scissors to good use because it's cut boy short and styled so that it's all spiky, making her look like a very sexy pixie. Damn! Seriously, I don't play for that team, but if I did, I would be on her like white on rice.

"What do you think?" Alice asks nervously, running her fingers across her now bare neck.

"Uh, god, it's-, it's awesome," I stammer, giving her a smile as her cheeks redden. "No joke, you're lucky I like boys."

She beams with pride, standing up and placing her bowl in the sink and I grab the last piece of bread, shoving it in my mouth before I suggest experimenting with each other. Whoa! I shake the thought away...Jeez, one day without masturbating and a haircut makes me want to switch teams and jump Alice's bones. What the hell has Edward awakened in me? Just thinking his name makes my thighs quiver, and suddenly, I forget all about Alice. If I have a team, it's definitely Team Edward. An image flashes in my mind of Edward hovering above me. Ugh! I need to stop this! He's affecting me too much, she's getting too close, and it's all just going to end badly when the inevitable happens. I can't continue doing this to myself! She needs to leave.

I won't even look in Alice's direction as we walk to work, taking the new, longer route. My mind races with different scenarios to get Alice out of the apartment as soon as possible. I can't wait for her to have enough money any more because I'll be too attached to her by then. My only good option is to pawn her off on someone else. A strange tightening sensation takes over my stomach, a feeling of guilt, as I consider asking Jacob to take her. I'm such a fucking selfish coward…

By mid-morning, Alice is working the counter at Toffee Coffee with very little issues. She still needs to learn how to make a few things, but Rosalie is right by her side to help her out if a problem arises and teach her things when there are no customers. Unfortunately, Irina shows up for a meeting with Rosalie and the two go into the back office, leaving Jacob running the register and me helping Alice.

"I guess I could show you how to brew the strawberry tea," I tell Alice, reaching for a red box behind the counter since there are no customers waiting. "It's specially made for the shop and Irina's extremely picky about the way we make it."

I'm getting ready to show her how to fill the tea machine when the bell for the front door dings and two familiar faces step in, it's Mr. Brawny and one of our regulars, a tall guy with blonde hair who has a thing for the strawberry tea.

"What can I-," Alice's voice trails off when her eyes connect with the blonde's and he gives her a smirk.

For the first time ever, Alice is speechless. I think about taking her to the side and telling her not to bother because Rosalie's been trying to snag him for a while and he always turns her down, but I'm caught off guard by the strange look Mr. Brawny seems to be giving me. It's like he's in shock or something.

"Can I get you something?" I ask, hoping he'll stop looking at me as if he's seen a ghost.

"Um, uh…yeah, is Rosalie around?" he stumbles over his words.

"Sorry, she's in a meeting with the owner, but I'll tell her you stopped by," I cut my gaze from his and look to the blonde who's having a weird stare off with Alice. "Strawberry tea?"

"Oh, yeah right, tea, yes, please," he responds, tearing his eyes away from Alice to stare at the floor.

What is with everyone today?

I walk back over to the tea machine and Alice follows reluctantly. After a rushed tutorial on making tea, she takes the cup over to the blonde and extends the drink out to him.

"Thanks, darling," he says with a smile, putting on a fake southern accent as he reaches for the cup and that's when all hell breaks loose.

Alice giggles, dropping the cup full of hot, strawberry tea and in a rush to clean up the mess she slips, knocking over the very expensive cappuccino machine and sending it tumbling to the floor with a loud crash.

There's a brief moment of silence before the door to the back office opens and Irina steps out. She takes one look at the scene, her chin length silvery blonde hair a sharp contrast to her red cheeks that are flushed with anger, and narrows her blue-green eyes full of fury on Alice.

"You fucking incompetent little twit!" She yells, closing the space between them in a few short steps. "Do you realize how much that machine fucking costs?"

"I-, I-, I'm sorry, I-"Alice stutters as tears begin to fill her eyes and my heart clenches in my chest.

"You're sorry?" Irina fumes, gesturing towards the broken machine. "Well, I guess that just makes everything okay then. I suppose an apology is just magically going to fix that $3,000 machine."

"Irina, she-" Rosalie tries to speak, but Irina cuts her off.

"I suggest you keep your mouth shut, Rosalie. You're the one who hired this useless piece of slutty, street trash."

Tears stream down Alice's face and I can see the glint in Irina's eyes as she's about to grill into her again. I can't take it, the pain she's causing Alice makes my stomach lurch with unease, and I say my next words without even realizing it.

"It's not her fault, I did it. She's just covering for me,"

Everyone looks at me as I step forward between Alice and Irina, and I suddenly feel brave under the watchful eyes of Jacob, Rosalie, Alice, and the patrons of Toffee Coffee.

Irina stares at me, her eyes cold and menacing. I prepare myself for the words that I know are coming, for her to unleash her anger on me and fire me right here on the spot, but just as she opens her mouth the sound of a ringing phone stops her. Irina reaches into her pocket and glances at the screen of her cell.

"This is your one and only warning, Swan. Go home for the day before I change my mind," she snarls, pressing a button on the phone and walking back into the office.

It's not until she's gone from sight that I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding and the whimpering behind me becomes clear. I turn to find Alice curled up on the floor, her arms wrapped around her knees and tears pouring down her face. The blonde guy has hopped over the counter to try to console her, but not even the kind words of the stranger that astounded her into silence can make her stop crying. I recognize the way she's acting because it's so familiar. The memory of falling apart in the woods outside of my childhood home seems so fresh to me. It's like it just happened yesterday and even though I don't know what's caused this heart breaking reaction in Alice, I know what I have to do.

With a few remnants of adrenaline rushing through my veins, I kneel beside Alice and wrap my arms around her tiny body, helping her to her feet. I expect the knots to fill my stomach, but nothing happens and I know it's because Alice has done what so many have failed to do up until this point, she's wormed her way right into my heart.

"I'm taking Alice home with me," I tell Rosalie, and she just gives me a nod and an apologetic smile before disappearing into the back office.

I shift my weight so she can lean on my shoulder, but she's too limp for me to support.

"Shit, she can't walk home like this," I murmur, locking eyes with Jake. "Did you bring your car today?"

Sometimes he brings his beat up VW Rabbit in when he's running late. He shakes his head; damn him for being on time today.

"We can give you a ride," the blonde says, gesturing for Mr. Brawny to help me with Alice.

I don't know either of them very well, but the look of concern in the blonde's baby blue eyes makes me trust them and so I gently detach Alice from my side. Mr. Brawny picks her up with one arm behind her knees and the other supporting her back so that she curls instinctively into him and we walk out of the coffee shop towards a big black Jeep.

Once Alice is buckled into the back seat, I climb in next to her and give Mr. Brawny directions to the house. While he drives, the boys eye us both and each other, no doubt feeling the awkwardness of sitting in a car with complete strangers. Alice doesn't notice any of it though, she's too busy sobbing into my shoulder and using my sleeve as a tissue. If I weren't so worried about her, I would be thoroughly grossed out.

"Thanks for doing this, I really appreciate it," I announce, when Mr. Brawny parks the Jeep in front of the apartment building. "I'm Bella by the way"

"It's not a problem and I'm Emmett," Mr. Brawny says, lifting his hand in a weird sort of wave before pointing to the blonde. "This is my brother, Jasper."

We all climb out and Emmett takes Alice in his grasp again. When we reach the apartment, I have him place her in my bed and then walk them both back to the door.

"Thanks again," I say uncomfortably, holding the door open for them to leave.

"Can I come by tomorrow to check and make sure she's okay?" Jasper asks, twitching his leg nervously.

"Um…yeah, okay," I reply, unsure of how Alice will react to that, but unable to tell the poor guy no.

They both say goodbye and I shut the door behind them, running back to Alice with a glass of water. She drinks a few sips while sobbing before setting the glass on the nightstand and I climb into bed next to her, allowing her to wrap her arms around me as I stroke her short hair.

"It's alright, Ali, everything's going to be alright," I murmur, trying to sooth her while her body shakes with tears. I can almost feel the story building in her like pressure on a dam. I know that soon she's going to burst, and I plan on being right here with her when she does.


	11. Reasoning with Madness

**Chapter 10**

**Reasoning with Madness**

"There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness."~ Friedrich Nietzsche

**EPOV**

I watch as they disappear into the crowd, but I can't find it in myself to chase after her. I've screwed up; I've screwed up bad. Sure, I could assume that Bella wasn't a virgin, that the blood was just a coincidence. That would certainly make me feel better. Unfortunately, I doubt I could make myself believe the lie, not after seeing her skin turn a hot shade of red moments ago when she avoided answering her friend's question. Bella won't even admit that she was with me because she's ashamed of what she did. In no way could she be more ashamed than I am though. For two years, I've been living for a wonderful woman who I thought was nothing more than a creation of my mind. To know now that she's real, and that I've taken something unbelievably precious from her as I did makes me want to vomit.

Without stopping to talk to the dozens of people that try to strike up a conversation with me, I find my way to a bench and take a seat. Resting my arms on my legs, I rest my face in my hands and try to hold back the gnawing pain in my stomach as question after question hits me. How many times have I seen her and thought she wasn't real? What if I never see the hallucination again? What if I do? What if I see _her_ again? How will I explain my actions? Somehow, the contents of my stomach are managing to stay intact, but just as I'm starting to think I can keep myself together, my thoughts take a terrifying turn. Images flash behind my eyelids, the look of pain on Bella's face after my sudden thrust to enter her, the surprise and confusion written so clear in her deep brown eyes, the stain on the sheets. I can't imagine what I would have looked like to her, feral and insane with lust. I feel like a fucking monster. The room spins around me and I reach for the vase of a potted plant on the floor at the exact moment that the most horrifying thought of all seeps into my brain. Protection, we didn't use any protection…I heave uncontrollably, the waves of nausea rolling over me and emptying the nutrients from my body. What the fuck have I done?

It's not until I feel a large hand shaking my shoulder that I remember where I am. Fuck my life…I let out a groan, trying to determine whether I want to open my eyes or not, only to realize there's no way to avoid it. I feel clammy and I know my face must be pale as a ghost, but when I open my eyes, it doesn't appear that anyone except Emmett and the short bald man running the art show have noticed.

"Sir, are you all right?" The small man asks. "Do you need me to call an ambulance?"

I shake my head trying to hold back the urge to puke again.

"He's fine. I'm sure he just needs some fresh air," Emmett tells him, grabbing me by the arm, and walking me towards the nearest exit. The door shuts behind us and he begins yelling, not even bothering to hold back with me. "What the fuck is wrong with you? How could you let her walk away like that?"

His eyes are the color of a tropical sea, but angry like a typhoon. How do I tell him? How do I tell my best friend that I treated the girl of my dreams like property, that I used her without knowing what I was doing, and that she may be carrying my child?

The thought of Bella standing in a bathroom and looking at a positive pregnancy test, her eyes full of tears, and her heart full of hate for me makes the bile rise in my throat. I heave a few times, but there's nothing left to expel. I need to know. If nothing else, I need to know if she's pregnant and if she is, I need to convince her to give me a chance. Why am I lying to myself? Even if she's not pregnant, I need to convince her to give me a chance. No matter what I have to do, how much I have to beg, I will make her see me for the man I am. The man who can give her everything her heart desires. The man who has been in love with her even before I knew she truly existed.

"Well?" Emmett hollers, interrupting my thoughts. He has me backed up against the wall, his hand clenched in frustration or anger or both.

"I made a mistake,"

"Damn right you made a mistake,"

"No, not today," I say, cutting him off before correcting myself. "Well, yes, I made a mistake today too, but I'm talking about a much bigger mistake."

Emmett looks at me with a questioning gaze.

"What did you do?"

By the time I'm done explaining the situation to Emmett, he's pacing back and forth in the alley, shaking his head.

"Let me get this straight," he says, pausing for a moment to collect himself. "Due to some strange as shit circumstances you now realize that you fucked the real Bella. Not only did you fuck her, but you took her virginity and all the while you thought she was a hallucination?"

I nod my head and he continues.

"And you didn't use protection because why the fuck would you have to if she wasn't real, right?"

Once again, I nod my head in agreement.

"So now, it's possible that you've gotten this girl knocked up and you have no idea where she lives, her last name, or even her favorite color. Is that about it?"

"Uh…yeah, pretty much," I murmur, rubbing the side of my neck nervously.

His hand is quick and the smack to my head makes me hiss in pain, but I know I fucking deserve it so I don't attempt to bitch about it. I'm expecting Emmett to start into a vicious rant and I'm sure he would have, if his phone hadn't gone off.

"Great…fucking wonderful," he grumbles. "Mom, Dad, and Jasper are here. We have to get back inside."

We head to the door and just before he opens it, he provides his two cents for the time being.

"I know you don't want me to, but I'm going to have to tell Mom and Dad if these hallucinations keep up. There's only so much I can help you with, and if this chick is pregnant…well, you can't be much of a Dad if you don't have two feet planted firmly in the real world."

"Yeah…okay," I agree, following him into the building. It's about time I own up to my problems anyway, especially if I want the real Bella.

The rest of the evening goes by without incident, and when I get home, I'm thoroughly exhausted, but my nerves are too rattled for me to consider sleeping. Emmett and I tried to find anybody at the show that knew Bella without success. So now, because of my inability to get over my own stupid fucking reaction to seeing her, my only option is to wait and see if she comes back down the alley. I go into the kitchen and make myself a glass of warm milk with a little bit of cinnamon and sugar like my mom used to do for me when I was a kid. It tastes sweet and warms my mouth all the way down to my stomach and it calms me somewhat, yet I still feel the urge to kick myself.

I stand against the kitchen counter for a while, sipping from my cup and listening to the silence of the room. Most of the time, I don't notice how lonely it is here, how every noise is made by me or some type of electronic device. It's depressing, and it makes me want to paint instead of sleep. Painting puts me at ease and makes me forget about everything, makes me forget how alone I am. With Bella still fresh in my mind though, I recognize that painting would be a bad idea. My hallucinations happen more when I'm tired and so it's best if I get a good night's sleep. I rinse out my cup and place it in the sink before dragging my feet into the bedroom. The sight of the bed makes me ache for Bella's company. She was really here, lying in the sheets. I press my face into the pillow, hoping to smell some trace of her strawberry essence, but my nostrils fill with the scent of laundry soap and fabric softener. With a sigh of disappointment, I pull off my clothes and bury myself in the comforter. At least I can still hope to see her in my dreams.

The sun rises at the same time I do and although I feel well rested, I'm also irritated because there were no dreams of Bella as I hoped there would be. It doesn't take me long to decide what I'm doing this morning. I want to have a good view of the alley so I pull on a pair of old sweats pants and a wife beater and go into my studio, sliding my easel and chair over to the window. I open the pane of glass as far as it will go, causing the chilly air of the first day of October to waft into the room. It smells like coffee mixed with pastries and it makes my stomach growl with hunger. I don't want to leave the window though; I would hate myself if I missed her. I try to ignore my empty stomach and begin to fill the base of my canvas with crimson, burnt orange, deep brown, and a warm tan. My hand knows what it's doing as it always does and it's already creating the image even though only glimpses of what I want to paint flash through my mind. Long strokes of browns, blotchy spots of crimson and burnt orange, a wide ribbon of winding tan. Minutes pass while the painting takes shape and I watch the alley through my peripheral vision, listening for the slightest noise. Nothing, I hear nothing and see nothing in the alley below and as time inches on, it becomes clear she's not coming. I wouldn't blame her if she never came back; she probably hates me.

The heartbreaking thought makes my hand falter and slip with my brush still resting against the canvas, full of dark brown paint.

"Shit," I hiss under my breath in anger.

I gaze at the weird shape my mistake has created, but it's as if my hand already knows exactly what to do with it. It's a strange thing, to be so completely confused about what I'm doing and at the same time feeling in my gut it's the right thing. My thumb reaches forward to smudge the splotch of paint, making it a hazy figure between the trunks of fall trees separated by a path of dirt. It's a figure I know all to well. A smile lights up my face. Even if I don't dream of her or see visions of her, I will always know how to paint her.

The cold, crisp air that sweeps in through the window keeps me focused right up until I hear the roaring of a car that sounds like Emmett's Jeep. I gaze down quickly at the alley, but find it empty. He must have driven into the parking garage. I finish the last few touches on my new piece and begin to put everything away, expecting Emmett to come barging in any moment. I'm just capping the lid on my last container of paint when a loud crash sends me rushing to the window. I can't see what has produced the sound, but it seems to have come from the direction of the coffee house. A shrill voice of a very angry woman follows it, but I can't quite make out her words. She seems pissed though. I hope everything's all right. An annoying electronic ringing catches my attention and I reach into my pocket for my phone. It's a text message from Emmett with only three words.

_I found her._

Without hesitation, I dial Emmett's number. I have a million questions. Where is she? What is she doing? Is she with anybody? The phone rings four or five times before I hear Emmett's voice.

"Hey, man, what's up?" He pauses to let me talk and I start rambling off questions only to find myself interrupted. "I'm not here right now so leave me a message after the beep."

"UGH!" I growl in agitation at Emmett's idea of a hilarious voice mail message.

I call again and it once again goes directly to his deceiving voice mail. Seriously, I'm going to beat the crap out of him for this. Finally, after my fourth attempt at calling him, I leave a very pissed off message for my idiotic brother.

"You better have a damn good excuse for sending me that text message, and then, not answering your phone. I mean it, Emmett, you better be dying in a fucking ditch somewhere."

I press the end button and shove the phone back into my pocket. Fucking moron! My skin feels hot with anger and I'm really tempted to break something…like Emmett's face. That's not the best idea though because one, I don't know where he is, and two, I need the information he has. My only choice is to wait for his dumbass to call or show up and that does nothing to calm my temper. On a last ditch effort to avoid breaking things, I force myself to do something productive, I settle on taking a shower. As I walk down the hallway, I strip off my clothes and while the water heats up, I brush my teeth vigorously, trying not to damage the medicine cabinet when I shut it.

I step into the shower, letting the water run over my tense body. I'm overwhelmed by the emotions surging through me, anger, anxiety, frustration, joy, excitement, and over all of that, I'm full of fear. I'm afraid she won't love me, that she'll hate me and want nothing to do with me, that she'll find out about my hallucinations and think I'm some psychotic freak. I feel an increasing urge to scream at the top of my lungs, and with shaking hands, I wash my hair and begin lathering my body with soap. I don't know what I'm going to do if she rejects me. My eyes close and I remember how beautiful she looked at the art show, the scarlet blush of her cheeks and the sound of her laugh. Immediately, my mood shifts at the image, and my right hand travels down my body, wrapping around my cock that becomes stiff in my grasp.

I picture her eyes filled with lust as they were in the alley on that early morning, her hair brushing against my face, her legs encircling my waist. She was as into the moment as I was, pushing against me, begging for more.

"Fuck," I whimper, moving my hand swiftly over my length, swiping my thumb over the warming metal on the tip with every stroke.

I remember her head tilting back, her body slick with sweat, her back bowing on my bed.

"Oh god," I groan, smacking my left hand against the wall of the shower to brace myself as I thrust more vigorously into my hand.

The screams that came from her fill my mind and I can see her burying her tiny fingers in my hair, tugging on it as she ground her pussy on my mouth.

"Yes…ugh…fuck yes," I hiss, pumping myself even faster. I'd give anything to have her ride my face like that again, to taste her on my tongue, tangy and sweet.

An image of her soaking wet center, her thighs quivering with the final waves of her orgasm makes me stiffen more in threat of release.

"Shit…Bella…" I grunt the words through gritted teeth, water running along my entire body and dripping from my hair as I bend my head forward to rest it on my left arm. I'm not going to last much longer.

She cries out how amazing I feel inside her, I beg her to cum for me, and she does, screaming out my name as she spasms around me.

"That's it, Bella…holy fuck…Bella!" I growl, my hot cum spilling out onto my hand as my legs wobble, the tension finally leaving my body.

I open my eyes and my panting breath is the only sound as I rewash my body. I still don't know what I'll do if she rejects me, but I do know that I'll do everything I can to make sure she doesn't. My mind cooks up a plan as I dry off. I'll let Emmett do the digging, find out everything I need to know to sweep her off her feet and then, I'll swoop in and blow her away.

Once I'm done dressing, I try to call Emmett again. This time he actually answers and on the first ring too.

"I'm sorry, bro, something happened and I had to turn my phone off. I had no choice and then, I had to drop Jasper off at school so I couldn't call you about it," he says, rushing through the words like he's trying to calm me down. There's really no point though, I'm all ready calm now.

"It's okay, Emmett. I should be the one apologizing. I really didn't mean to wig out so bad."

"Oh…well, yeah, don't worry about it," he replies, seeming surprised at how relaxed I am. A good jerk off session will do that, especially when Bella is involved. "So, you're not going to believe this, but your girl works at that coffee shop around the corner from your place."

"You're shitting me?" I ask, half of me wanting to laugh and the other half of me wanting to kick my own ass for avoiding that place.

"Nope," Emmett chuckles.

Unfortunately, knowing that she works so close is going to make staying away until Emmett can get me the information I need even more difficult.

"Jasper and I went there about an hour ago so he could get his stupid tea and I could see Rose. She's the one who must have given Bella the tickets to the art show. Anyways, some shit went down and we ended up giving her and her roommate, Alice, a ride home."

A smile pulls my lips up as I comprehend Emmett's words.

"So you know where she lives?" I ask him.

"Yeah, man, and Jasper's actually going there tomorrow to see Alice so I was figuring that you could tag along as his brother. It's the perfect excuse for you to be there."

It's a tempting offer, so tempting that I almost agree, but then I remember how important Bella is and how much she deserves to be wooed properly. Besides, there's no way she'll turn me down if I can prove how devoted I am to making her happy.

"Um, about that, how would you feel about making an extra $25,000 on your paycheck this month?"

"Dude, that would be fucking awesome…wait, what would I have to do?"

I take a deep breath and consider my words carefully. I'm pretty sure Emmett is not going to like this one bit. He hates the thought of invading people's privacy.

"I just want you to become friends with Bella. You know, go over there with Jasper tomorrow, hang out with her, and visit the coffee shop. Basically, get to know her and maybe put in a good word for me."

"No way!" Emmett responds adamantly. "There is no fucking way I'm going to spy on her for you."

So, he's going to be difficult. All right, no problem. I can handle this.

"$35,000"

"Absolutely not happening, bro, I have plenty of my own money, remember. It's not like I got nothing from my knee injury."

Shit…I always forget that bastard is just as rich as I am.

"You'll be just like James Bond." Okay, so I'm a sick bastard for playing on his ultimate childhood fantasy, but come on I'm desperate. "I'll even get you one of those awesome ear pieces and call you 007."

There's a long pause and I do a little fist pump because I know I have him. Now, all I have to do is reel him in and close the deal.

"$35,000, I'll call you 007 for the duration of your mission, and I'll dress up as Ranger Smith for Halloween."

Emmett loves Halloween and bears, so for years he's been trying to convince me to dress up as Ranger Smith so he could be Yogi Bear and Jasper could be booboo. It's ridiculously stupid and I hate dressing up for Halloween, it's such a hassle. The last time I wore a costume was when I was 11 and I went as a vampire, which only required me to put on a cape and place some fake fangs in my mouth.

"Really?" Emmett shouts, and I can almost see his eyes lighting up like a freaking Christmas tree.

"Yes, I'll even wear the dumb hat. Do we have a deal or not, Emmett?"

"I believe the name you meant to say was 007, little brother."

Ugh…I know the out come will be worth it, but I can already tell this is going to be madness.


	12. Helping Each Other

**Chapter 11**

**Helping Each Other**

"It is not so much our friends' help that helps us as the confident knowledge that they will help us."~ Epicurus

**BPOV**

As the night creeps into the room, covering the walls in shadows, I can feel Alice's body trembling against mine. All my focus is in the slight movements of her form, the shifting of her eyes underneath their lids, and the soft, wordless whimpers that slip from her mouth. She fell asleep a little over an hour ago with her small frame tucked into my side like a frightened child, the weight of her sadness finally forcing her eyes to close. So now, there's nothing to do but wait, wait for sleep to find me, wait for the sun to rise, wait for the dam on her story to explode.

Her arm tightens around my waist as another mysterious whimper escapes her. It makes my chest hurt and I wish I could take her pain away. A part of me wonders if I'm even capable of helping her though. I mean, if I can't even deal with my own problems, how am I supposed to help her with hers? I don't have time to consider this because Alice starts to shudder, grasping me in her hold even harder.

"No…please, no," Alice pleads, obviously fighting off the demons in her mind, her voice getting louder. "Don't let him take me Ms. Victoria."

Alice's voice is shaky, full of terror. Her heart's racing a mile a minute; I can feel it even through the clothes and blankets between us, slamming into her chest like a battering ram. It pulses intensely, sending my own heart into a matching rhythm and her pain is suddenly my pain, her sorrow is my sorrow. I can't let her continue to sleep and not just for her own sanity, but for mine as well.

"Please don't let him take me," she whimpers, tears running down her cheeks, seeping out of her still closed eyes.

"Ali," I cry out to her, shaking her shoulder firmly. "Ali, wake up."

"NO!" Alice's scream vibrates off the walls as she sits straight up in bed, her eyes snapping open. Sweat pours down her now ghostly pale face and the only noise in the room is our deep, panting breaths.

"Ali," I say her name after a few moments, making her look into my eyes. Opening my arms, I offer her the only thing I can think to give, a comforting and warm embrace. She takes it without hesitation, burying her tiny head in my shoulder with a sob.

"Ms. Victoria killed her, Bella. She just killed her like she was nothing."

I'm scared shitless to ask whom she's talking about, but I think that my heart already knows the answer. So instead, I ask the question that I feel I need to know the answer to.

"Why?"

Alice stops sobbing and there's anger in her voice when she tells me exactly what I feared.

"For the girls…she wanted the girls… _he_ wanted the girls."

"Tell me, Ali?" My request, I know, is not a simple one and I purposely don't specify what I want her to tell me, I let her make that judgment. Honestly, I'm uncertain of how much I actually want to know and at the same time, I'm pretty sure I _have_ to know it all.

She pulls back from my hold, folding her legs and wrapping her arms around them.

"It's not a nice story," she whispers, almost low enough that I can't hear.

"That's okay. Stories between friends don't always have to be nice."

I give her a sad smile and she gives me one in return before letting out a sigh.

"Did you ever know that I was jealous of you?" Her question completely surprises me and the confusion on my face is probably blindingly obvious. Alice gives a shrug, seeming chagrined at the confession. "I guess you wouldn't. It's not like we ever really used to talk."

"But that's stupid; why in the hell would you be jealous of me?" The words barely leave my lips when I realize the answer on my own. "Ms. Penny…"

Alice smiles at the name, but the smile is a quarter of the size of the huge grins that normally light her face.

"She spent so much time with you, trying to get you to socialize with the other kids, time that she could have been spending with me."

Talking about her brings the fresh wound of her death to mind, but also the memories that I've nearly forgotten. I remember the way her long gray hair smelled like lavender, the scent would fill the room even when it was back in a ponytail, and the way her blue/green eyes would widen at the sound of my voice on the days, in the beginning, when she would get me to say something, anything.

I force myself to hold back the emotions I feel, not willing to face them, Alice is my priority right now.

"So," Alice continues, "I'm not going to lie, I was happy when you left. Ms. Penny was still busy watching over the other kids of course, still, it felt like she was mine again. You know?"

I give her a nod. I couldn't imagine what it would have been like if I had been forced to share Charlie with a house full of kids. Ms. Penny was all Alice had; it makes perfect sense why she would have felt slightly possessive of her.

"Everything was well and good until _she_ showed up," Alice says angrily. She pauses a moment to collect her self, doing her best to keep her emotions at bay as I'm doing. It works somewhat, although, a hint of menace does remain when she proceeds. "It was around a month after you left, so about a year ago, and a girl in her mid to late twenties showed up at the door. Her hair was curly and a shade of blood red, clearly out of a box by the way, and her eyes, god, her eyes were the most freakish green color, kind of a mix between baby puke green and moss green. Anyway, she claimed to be Ms. Penny's granddaughter."

"Ms. Penny had children!" I exclaim, my shock evident.

"That's just about how I reacted," Alice sighs, "But yes, it turns out Ms. Penny did in fact have one child, a daughter. She gave her up for adoption when she was 16. Her parents were absolutely furious, and the father wanted nothing to do with Ms. Penny or the baby, they made her give the child away."

My heart constricts in my chest at the new information. No wonder Ms. Penny started the home. It makes perfect sense now. She wanted to care for us because she was forced to give up her only baby by the parents who should have supported her and loved her. She must have felt like an orphan herself. I would have hated Charlie if he had taken something like that from me.

"How'd you figure all this out?" I ask in astonishment.

"Um, I may have listened to Ms. Penny talk to the girl through the vent in the floor of the blue room," Alice replies nervously.

The blue room was what the girls called the room that all the new girls stayed in when they first arrived because of the fact that the new girls were always so depressed, blue. Alice learned all this by listening through the same vent that I heard her own tragic tale through.

I give a shrug to let her know that the idea doesn't bother me. Invading someone's privacy used to be a big deal at Ms. Penny's, but truthfully, there was no way to avoid listening to other people talk, the walls were paper-thin. Not to mention, I would have been just as curious in Alice's position.

"Back to what I was saying, Victoria Stanley, if that is her real name, convinced Ms. Penny that her mother had spent years searching for her and recently passed away from a 6 year battle to cancer and she had taken over the search." Alice's voice is hard and venomous as she speaks. "She told Ms. Penny that she had actually moved close by and she wanted to get to know her. Ms Penny fell for it, hook, line, and sinker."

My heart starts to race, the bad stuff is coming, and I don't quite know if I'm ready to hear it. I want to stall…

"How did I not know about her?" I ask, already knowing the answer. Alice rolls her eyes, and I think she somehow gets that I'm holding her up on purpose.

"You came by what, twice in the past year? And how long did you stay, twenty minutes or so?"

A wave of shame runs over me. If I had come by more, if I had just sucked up my issues, I might have known what was going on, I might have been able to…I shake my head. No, I won't admit it yet, not until I have to.

"At first, I was jealous of Ms. Victoria. Any free time Ms. Penny had, she spent with her, and that made me angry. Then, I started to notice the way Ms. Victoria talked to her as if she was trying to dig information out of her and I realized she was after Ms. Penny for something more than her company. I thought she wanted money. I even remember one conversation in particular, where she asked Ms. Penny if she had a will…" Alice stops, her eyes glistening with tears in the dark room and I know now for sure that what I didn't want to think of seconds ago is true.

"She killed Ms. Penny, didn't she?" Alice nods, drops of salt water dripping down along her chin and onto her knees, that she's resting her head on. A fresh wave of shame crashes against me, almost drowning me with its force and Alice tells me the one thing I wish I never had to hear.

"After she got all the information she wanted, she began to bring Ms. Penny soup. Hot, warm chicken noodle soup that she made herself. Ms. Penny didn't want to hurt her feelings so she would eat it, but she told me that Ms. Victoria's soup was terribly bitter. Ms. Victoria would watch her eat it though, every last bite, and Ms. Penny got sick, really sick."

I recall the last time I came to visit her. She looked extremely frail. I asked her if she was feeling all right. Ms. Penny told me not to worry about it, that she was an old woman and she'd be just fine after a soothing bath and a nice nap.

"I found her in bed, a week, or so after your last visit…" More tears flow across her cheeks, splashing onto her knees and legs like rain. "She looked so peaceful, but I know, _I know_ , how much she suffered. I could see it, even if the other girls couldn't. The evenings she spent clutching onto the kitchen sink, holding back the urge to vomit as we ate dinner. I could see it in her eyes, they completely lost there sparkle. I knew she was sick, but I didn't realize…I didn't see what was causing it!"

Her shouts catch me off guard. I understand how she feels though because I feel the same way. I'm angry too, angry with myself just like she is. She squeezes her legs hard and the room gets silent except for Alice's choking sobs.

"You don't have to keep going, Ali, I'm not going to make you," I say finally, cutting off the quiet, with a choppy, unsure voice. I don't mind admitting that I'm a coward, and that I can't stand the thought of listening to the rest, but Alice is braver than I am.

"No…I'm tired of bottling this shit. I can't hide forever. Someone needs to know, and I'm too afraid to tell anyone else, Bella, I need you." I see the determination in her smoky gray eyes and saying no seems not only wrong, it's impossible.

"Alright,"

She takes a few deep breaths, clenching and unclenching her hands, visibly calming herself before continuing.

"Ms. Victoria is devious, she planned it all perfectly. The home was put into her name, Ms. Penny had written her into the will. The girls were all placed under her care; she passed a background check and everything. She hid her shit well." Alice lets out a short laugh that's in no way jolly.

"Ms. Victoria started abusing all of us the first chance she got, back handing, and name calling; she even locked the littler ones in their rooms for the first couple of days with nothing more than a jug of water. Of course, I was one of the few that wouldn't take any of her shit. I was almost 18, I was tough…at least I thought I was." Her head drops as she reaches the end of the sentence. "By this time I had finally put it all together, figured out what she had done, but just as I was getting ready to go to the cops, _he_ showed up. Ms. Victoria knew; she fucking knew that I was close to Ms. Penny and she wasn't taking any chances. When he grabbed me, I started kicking and screaming, but it did no good. Aro Volturi is a strong man, and a very powerful man."

"Aro Volturi…I've heard that name before," I say the words that I'm thinking, trying to think back to when I first heard it, it was a long time ago, back when Charlie was still alive.

"I wouldn't be surprised…he's the chief of police," Alice replies, her voice so incredibly quiet.

"Oh my god!" I cry out, a sudden flash coming back to me. Charlie was sitting at the kitchen table; we were talking about our day and he brought him up, 'New guy moved to our precinct today, Aro Volturi, wanted a change from Chicago, I guess.' "How is it your still alive?"

I realize how insensitive the question is, but it's too late now. It seems she understands my reasoning though because she doesn't appear bothered by it.

"He said I was too pretty to waste." I can hear the heartbreak in her voice…oh fuck…no, no, no, not Alice. Please, not Alice. "He took me to this place they call 'The Diner'. It's a warehouse downtown where they bring all the 'meals' to."

It doesn't take me any time at all to decipher the meaning to her words, but the shock makes my mouth ask the question that I already know the answer to.

"The 'meals' are girls aren't they?" Alice nods. I want to plug my ears and sing 'la, la, la' until she's done talking now. God, how I wish I could do that, I can't though. I have to hear it all, I don't have a choice anymore.

"When they discovered I hadn't been touched, they kept me pure so they could auction me off the next week on 'Special Menu Night'. Virgins are worth more and at our age, they're a high commodity. They still made me 'work' for my keep though, and Victoria just loved to visit. She liked to watch me suffer and taunt me from the sidelines while I 'worked'."

I watch as the tears cascade down her face faster and I can feel my own face getting wet. No matter how much I try to swipe away the wetness, it continues to flow.

"Some were worse than others, like James. The way he looked at all the girls, it's as if you could see the devil himself looking out through his dark eyes and the smell of him, he always smelled like he'd been bathing in alcohol…" Her eyes glaze over with a far away look and I know she's seeing it all, feeling it all again. "The day of 'Special Menu Night' Aro's lackeys, Marcus and Caius, took me and the other 'meals' to get cleaned up at a hotel. Caius took the opportunity to have himself a 'meal' and thanks to Marcus' overactive bladder, I bolted out of the fire escape just as Caius was finishing. I tried to convince the others to come with me, but they were too afraid. I ran so far and fast that I thought my legs would crumble beneath me. I didn't know who Aro really was then so when I found my way to the police station that's how I discovered the hell that is my life. I told the cop on duty that I had been kidnapped, but the moment the cop said, 'get Chief Volturi in here,' I knew…the way he was always so clean shaven, how he carried himself. I'm surprised I hadn't figured it out a long time ago. I turned on my heels, ran out of the police station, and I've been running ever since."

My heart is splitting from her story, and upon placing my hand on hers, I say the only thing I can think of.

"You don't have to run anymore. We'll walk through this together now."


	13. Paying the Price

**Chapter 12**

**Paying the Price**

"Guilt is the price we pay willingly for doing what we are going to do anyway"~ Isabelle Holland

**EPOV**

"Ranger, this is 007, do you copy, over?" The sound of Emmett's voice echoes through the room out of the small device in my hand and I already want to chuck it at the wall. "I repeat, do you copy, Ranger, over?"

I let out a sigh and press the button on the side of the device.

"Yes, I copy, 007." Releasing the button, I hold back the urge to bang my head on the kitchen table that I'm sitting at.

"You didn't say over, over," Emmett replies.

"You're life is about to be over, over," I grumble into the speaker.

"Picking up Boo Boo, ceasing communication, over and out,"

The radio goes quiet except for some soft background noises. Thank god. This has to be the dumbest idea I've ever had. Why didn't I just go to the coffee shop? Oh yeah, I'm an idiot. At least, he has one of those microphone and earpiece things so I can hear everything that's going on. Wait…what the hell is he listening to?

_There's a man who leads a life of danger_

_To everyone he meets he stays a stranger_

_With every move he makes, another chance he takes_

_Odds are he won't live to see tomorrow_

_Secret agent man, secret agent man_

_They've given you a number and taken away your name_

"Seriously, Emmett? Turn that shit off!" The volume just increases and Emmett begins to sing along, punctuating far too heavily on the 'secret agent man' line.

_Beware of pretty faces that you find_

_A pretty face can hide an evil mind_

_Ah, be careful what you say_

_Or you'll give yourself away_

_Odds are you won't live to see tomorrow_

_Secret agent man, secret agent man_

_They've given you a number and taken away your name_

I'm sure Jasper isn't even considering Emmett's weird behavior out of character, but the fact that he's butchering a great song is making my teeth clench. I turn the volume down and toss the walkie-talkie device onto the table. He's going to be the death of me. Leaning forward, I plant my hands firmly in my hair in an attempt to calm my raging nerves.

_Secret agent man, secret agent man_

_They've given you a number and taken away your name_

_Swingin' on the Riviera one day_

_And then layin' in the Bombay alley next day_

_Oh no, you let the wrong word slip_

_While kissing persuasive lips_

_The odds are you won't live to see tomorrow_

_Secret agent man, secret agent man_

_They've given you a number and taken away your name_

_Secret agent man_

The song ends and I pick up the walkie-talkie, turning up the volume with one hand while I continue to tug at my hair with the other.

"So, Jazz man, what's crackin'?" Emmett bellows, his voice dropping down to its normal level, a dull roar.

"Nothing," Jasper is barely audible and for the billionth time I wonder how it's possible that we're all from the same gene pool.

"Are you nervous, baby bro?" Emmett asks, drawing out the word 'nervous' and I can hear the smile in his tone, the only thing he loves more than embarrassing Jasper is annoying me. I guess that means he's killing two birds with one stone today.

"Well…I-, uh, yeah, of course I'm nervous," Jasper responds, discomfort clear in his shaky tenor.

I don't really blame him for being jittery. Emmett told me everything that went down in the coffee shop and I can imagine that Jasper probably feels guilty as hell about it all. It was the first time that he actually went out on a limb to try to impress a girl and it ended up almost getting both her and Bella fired.

"What is it that you're so worried about?"

I shake my head at Emmett's question. The answer is so obvious that it's ridiculous. He's concerned about the same thing I am…

"I'm afraid she hates me."

BINGO! We have a winner! Fear is a powerful emotion; it can make people do things they never, in a million years, would do. For Jasper, that means talking face to face with a woman whom he feels an intense attraction to and who he now thinks might hate him for almost costing her a job. For me, that means hiding out in my apartment and sending my brother to stalk the girl who may be carrying my child to discover information to make her love me. It's not exactly rational, but then again, when is fear ever rational?

I hear Emmett sigh and mumble under his breath.

"Idiots, they're both idiots."

"Hey! I heard that, asshole," I snap at him through his earpiece.

"Alright, I'm tired of this shit. It's about time you learn the secret to my success with the ladies so listen up because just like with Eddie," Emmett pauses, seeming to emphasize that he's talking to me as well as Jasper, "I'm only going to tell you this once. Women are confusing, complex, and sometimes all around psychotic, but that can be an advantage. Just because she hates you one minute, does not mean that you can't turn her opinion around the next. Take Rosalie for example. I made a mistake when I first met her, I called her blondie, and I'm pretty sure her 'accidentally' spilling coffee all over my lap is a good indication that she probably hated me after that. Now most guys would call it quits at that point because she was pissed, but this is where I turned it around. I cleaned myself off, walked right over to her, and whispered to her in my awesome sex voice, 'Just so you know, your eyes are the most radiant blue when you're mad so I'll be making you angry every chance I get.' Then, I slipped her my card in between the two tickets to the art show and left without even looking at her-,"

"But she didn't even go to the art show," Jasper cuts him off.

"Let me finish," Emmett replies exasperatedly. "No, she didn't go to the art show, because it turns out that she plays the game as well as I do. I wouldn't have gone if I were her either, it's better to let the person who made the mistake wallow for a little while. Anyways, she may have given the tickets away, but she kept the card because after we left the shop yesterday, I got a text message from her telling me to pick her up Friday at 8."

The engine of the car shuts off.

"So you see it may have seemed like Rosalie hated me. In the end though, she didn't throw out my card and that means she either was testing me with the blondie thing, which I doubt because she seemed really pissed, or the fact that I didn't back down changed her opinion on me. Sometimes girls just need to know that you're all in. If you run at the first sign of trouble, why would she bother going on a date with you? Do you get what I'm saying?"

Damn it, I do. Son of a bitch, I hate it when Emmett's right! I listen to the sounds of Emmett and Jasper's steps as I contemplate what I want to do now. I want out of this plan, but I'm far too curious to back out at this very second. I'll let Emmett do what he's going to do and after he leaves her place, I'll end this.

Emmett knocks on a door. My heart starts to pound, my muscles tense, and I suck in a deep breath. There's a creaking sound as the door opens.

"Oh, hi," Bella…I sigh in contentment at the sound of her voice. God, it's beautiful. "Um, come on in."

The slight trembling of her words tells me she's anxious and I wish I could hold her in my arms and tell her that everything is okay. There are more footsteps.

"Can I use your bathroom?"

"No! Hold it, 007!" I hiss into the walkie-talkie, using his nickname is weird, but I can't have him taking a bathroom break now. He needs to focus.

"Yeah, sure," Bella answers and even those simple words sound musical. I don't think I'll ever get tired of listening to her talk.

"Thanks,"

I hear a door close and my shoulders slump down. I place my fingers on the volume knob to turn it when Emmett's voice stops me.

"Don't touch that dial, Ranger," he whispers. A series of quiet noises in the background tip me off to what he's doing, and I wait patiently to hear what he finds.

"Strawberry shampoo, strawberry conditioner, strawberry body wash. Jeez, one of these girls really likes strawberry,"

The scent of Bella hits me for an instant and my body relaxes the tiniest bit. An image of her lying in the tub, hair up in a bun, and bubbles surrounding her, flashes behind my eyelids. My cock likes the image, immediately hardening at the fantasy in my head. It takes only seconds for my mind to wander to thoughts of washing her hair, rubbing her skin, making her dirty, and cleaning her over and over and over…

"Jackpot!" Emmett shouts in a whisper and I jump at the sound.

"What? What is it?" I ask him.

"Birth control, the prescription's for Isabella Swan and she's been taking it regularly for months."

A small part of me feels sad at the discovery while a much larger part of me realizes that I'm not ready to be a dad and its better this way. It's not happening today, but maybe someday. Isabella Cullen does have a nice ring to it. The clichés fill my mind, Bella in a white dress, Bella round with my baby…

"Did you hear me, Man?"

I shake my head, clearing my thoughts away. Jesus, I've never even had a real conversation with the girl and I'm already picturing our life together. Fuck…what am I turning into, a girl?

"Yeah, I heard you, 007," I tell Emmett through the handheld.

"Alright, I'm leaving the bathroom."

The toilet flushes, the sink runs, shuts off, and the door opens.

"Oh my god, Jazzy, you're so thoughtful. I'll be just fine and of course, I'm not mad at you. Why would you think I was mad at you? Are you mad at me?" A girly voice comes through the speaker and I chuckle a little, pressing the button on the walkie-talkie.

"Sounds like Jasper's got himself a talker. He really loves the ones that don't shut up, poor guy's probably going to jizz his pants…You're already thinking about calling him Jazzy Jizz Pants from now on, aren't you?"

Emmett snorts, trying to hold back a laugh, and I can't help pushing him a bit, so I continue to hold down the button as I sing a little tune to Spongebob that will definitely make Emmett lose his shit.

"OH! Who lives with big brains and a boner so stiff? JAZZ-Y JIZZ PANTS! Genius and awkward he gives you a kick. JAZZ-Y JIZZ PANTS! If uncomfortable talking be something you wish. JAZZ-Y JIZZ PANTS! Then talk to the man with a stiff dick you can't miss."

Unable to finish, I break out in a fit of hysterics as Emmett tries to cover his laughs with coughs and compose himself.

"Ahem, sorry about that, I had a tickle in my throat," Emmett apologizes, and I have a feeling that Bella and Alice probably think he's a crazy man. I kind of get why Emmett jokes around and pranks Jazz and Me all the time now. It's sort of fun.

"Would you like something to drink?" Bella's soothing voice calms the last of my chuckles.

"Sure, that would be great, thanks,"

There's some shuffling as Emmett follows Bella to the kitchen. It doesn't seem like the kitchen's that far away though because it's only a short time before I can hear the clanking of glasses. The thought causes questions to flood my brain. How big is her apartment? Does she live in a good neighborhood? What size bed does she have? Will I ever see it for myself?

"Sorry, all I have is water. Is that okay?"

Is she out of groceries? I wonder where she shops. What does she normally drink? Is she old enough to have alcohol?

"Yeah, that's fine,"

I hear Emmett gulp down the glass of water, but no more movement and so I guess they are standing in the kitchen still. In the background though, I can hear Alice and Jasper's hushed voices. Are they in the kitchen too or is the apartment so small that you can hear voices over the short distance between rooms?

The sound of more footsteps tells me that Emmett's on the move again and when Alice and Jasper's voice become clear, it makes the answer to at least one of my questions obvious. Bella's apartment is small, really small…I wonder how long it would take me to claim her on ever surface of the place. Images of Bella in different positions flip through my brain. Water cascades down the front of her body in a shower just big enough for the two of us to maneuver around. She's sprawled across a kitchen table, her hands clutching easily onto both sides of the narrow wooden slab. Her lithe body bends forward over the arm of a tan loveseat built for two. She sits on the only spot of kitchen counter that has free space, her legs spread wide and inviting.

"Ugh," I groan, reaching under the table to adjust my straining cock and the moment my hand grazes my pants I hiss loudly. I know I need to listen for voices on the walkie-talkie, but all I can seem to concentrate on is how good my hand feels on my dick, even through my pants. Instinctually, I lean back and press my hand against the large bulge, rubbing the fabric that covers my length. "Jesus!"

The only voices I hear coming through the handheld are Bella's now. I can't seem to hear anyone else.

"I love to read."

There's another voice, but it's just white noise to my ears and against my better judgment, I unzip my jeans. I know this is a thousand types of wrong, but I don't really care now. I clutch my hand around myself and my head falls back over the back support of the chair.

"Fuck!" I howl, stroking quickly because I know I'm not willing to stop. The white noise comes back and I ignore it.

Bella laughs and my cock twitches in my hand as my stomach coils. I'm so close already and all just because of the sound of her sexy, amazing voice

"I've always enjoyed the classics and there's something about Romeo and Juliet that gets my heart pumping. I guess, deep down, I'm a hopeless romantic."

"Holy shit, Bella," I moan, unable to stop the words from escaping as I stroke hard and fast, teetering on the edge of release.

More white noise…

"Sometimes hard and fast is just what you need though."

My cock stiffens at the sultry sound of her words.

"OH GOD!" I shout out in release, my vision flashing white as the world goes fuzzy. I close my hand around the head of my cock to stop cum from dripping down onto my clothes, panting so deeply that I feel like my lungs are going to explode. "Holy fuck!"

Luckily, the radio stays silent while I run over to the sink and wash myself off. The shame flows through me as soon as I'm clean and tucked back into my pants, but as much as I want to take back what I just did, I can't, because jerking off to the sound of her voice concluded in one of the most spectacular orgasms I've ever had. It's not as if I was mutilating a puppy or something. Is it really any worse then when I used to watch porn when I was younger and I could hear Emmett and Jasper rough housing somewhere in the house? Ugh…I hate justifying my own actions to myself. The guilt's not going to go away just because I'm trying to convince myself that it should.

"So, Bella, I saw you guys at the art show the other day, what did you think of it?" Emmett asks after a few moments of silence and I wonder how long I'm going to feel guilty about the past 5 minutes of my life.

"Oh, um, art's never really been a passion of mine, those pieces were wonderful though. I felt oddly connected with them." At least, her voice, even with the nervous tone, soothes away a small portion of my disgrace. "Who's the artist?"

Shit...come on, Em; come through for me.

"It's our brother, actually. I'm his manager."

Whew. That was way too close a call.

"Yeah, Edward's an amazing artist,"

Spoke to soon…Damn you, Jazzy Jizz Pants!


	14. Gambling with Fate

**Chapter 13**

**Gambling with Fate**

"Our wills and fates do so contrary run  
That our devices still are overthrown;  
Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own."

~William Shakespeare (Hamlet)

**BPOV**

I wake up to the smell of eggs and toast, the bed beside me is empty, the clock says it's a quarter pass ten. When I force myself to stand and walk to the bedroom door, I can see Alice standing in the kitchen, slathering toasted bread with butter and jam while humming. I watch from there as she plates the food until she turns around, greeting me with a warm smile.

"Morning, sleepy head," she says cheerily. "I made you some breakfast."

Most people would find it odd that she's so happy after what happened last night, but Alice has always been this way. She has what Ms. Penny used to call 'a Phoenix disposition', which means she's sunny 95% of the time. I shake my head. Ms. Penny was full of weird phrases like that.

"Thanks,"

I walk over and sit down at the table, taking a bite out of my toast. I let out a moan of approval at the taste of the warm bread, melted butter, and sweet strawberry jelly. Toast is something I can usually afford and that's a good thing because I adore it.

"I called Rosalie this morning and let her know we wouldn't be in today," Alice says, sprinkling some pepper and salt onto her scrambled eggs. "With the way she started spewing out apologies you would think that she was the one who knocked over that cappuccino machine."

Alice lets out a tiny tinkling laugh and then takes a bite of the fluffy yellow eggs. I smile at her before diving into a story that I think might explain Rosalie's behavior.

"As crazy as it seems, I think Rosalie feels a sense of motherly affection towards her workers and when Irina gets mad at us like that it turns her into this completely different person. She steps in when she can, like she tried to do yesterday or sometimes she's just there to support us after wards. One time I forgot to turn off the coffee machine. The next morning, there was coffee all over the floor. Irina was there to pick up some paperwork and she yelled at me for a good ten minutes about the mess. The moment she left, Rosalie was on her hands and knees beside me, scrubbing the floor. She keeps on a strong front, but deep down I think the only reason she sticks around is that she cares about all of us and she wants to protect us from Irina."

I lock eyes with Alice, trying to convey my own protectiveness. Alice is the most important person in my life now, she's the closest thing I have to family, and I want her to know that I'm dedicated to keeping her safe.

"You know I'll do whatever it takes to keep _him_ away from you, right?" I ask her; careful to keep my voice low, but comforting, and her lips turn up in a loving smile.

A realization hits me, I have no way of guaranteeing her safety... a billion things pass through my mind at once, different ways that my best friend could die, hit by a car, tortured by Aro, a fall down the stairs, a fire.

"I gave Rosalie a fake social," she tells me, oblivious to the freak out that's going on in my brain. "The guy I got it from told me that it should keep the cops from finding out where I work and now that I cut my hair, it will make me less noticeable as well."

There's a new, intense urge to chain her down in the apartment or at least, wrap her up in bubble wrap and never let her leave my sight. I know it's insane, but I can't help it. It's as if the love I feel for her is causing my fear of loss to rise to new, epic proportions. I try to choke back my anxiety, letting it dwindle in my stomach where it knots uncomfortably. I hold it there, determined to hide my panic.

"Alright," I pause, letting out a deep breath of relief at the fact that my voice didn't come out shaky or two octaves too high. "So for now we'll keep this between us because I know you're not ready to tell anyone, but sometime really soon, we'll have to notify the feds so that they can take care of this."

Alice nods and we finish the rest of our breakfast talking about lighter topics. I force myself to not show or voice my uneasy feelings as Alice talks about how cute Jasper's hair is...even considering trusting her with him scares me out of my wits.

To pass some time, we play cards at the coffee table in the living room. The repetition of playing war is calming and eases my panic to a much more controllable level. Still, unwelcome thoughts lurk in the back of my mind. We're on our third round of war when Alice asks a question that manages to take me completely by surprise and actually erases the last lingering images of death.

"So, was the green eyed hottie any good in bed?"

My hand stops mid-flip of my card and heat floods my face.

"How did you-"

"Know that you slept with him?" She finishes my question and takes the card that I'm still holding, it was a four, and hers was a nine. She shrugs her shoulders, while revealing her next card, a king. I show her my jack and she takes it. "It was pretty easy to figure out. You came home early with messy sex hair and a grin on your face…well, that and your shirt was inside out."

My mouth drops open and Alice laughs. We draw again, she wins, ace over king.

"So, are you going to tell me about him?"

"I-, um, there's nothing really to tell," I stammer over my answer as she continues to whoop me in war.

"That bad, huh?" She chuckles. I run out of cards and gather up my few measly wins, shuffling them.

"It wasn't bad," I reply defensively, slapping my top card on the table, it's a 10. "It was my first so it hurt a little at the beginning, but well…it felt pretty amazing after that."

My face feels like it's going to melt off, and nervously, I begin to chew on my bottom lip.

"Where did you meet up? 'Still Life'?" Alice reveals a five and I grab it.

I shake my head and tell her quickly about the alley. By the time I'm done, she seems awe struck.

"Wow…What's his name?"

"Edward," I sigh, and just saying his name aloud soothes my previously anxiety ridden insides.

"Have you seen him since?" I shake my head and my chest tightens a little. "Do you want to see him again?"

She places an ace on the table and we stare at each other for a moment as I contemplate my answer. If I had a different past, I wouldn't be hesitating with my answer. It would be a deep, resounding 'yes'. The way he makes me feel is remarkable, the need to touch him, to be as close to him as possible, is exhilarating. However, because of my anxiety over losing people I care about, the thought of facing him again terrifies me.

Considering how strongly I feel about Alice now and the fact that I was thinking about chaining her down in the apartment only a little bit ago, I can't imagine how much worse it would be if it was Edward instead of her. If he wanted me, could I ever be normal enough to let him leave my side without having a panic attack? Moreover, if he didn't want me, would I have the strength to walk away?

"Yeah, but it's not that easy," I reply, flipping my card, it's an ace. "I don't want to get close to him, Ali. I-, I'm scared that if I see him again, I won't be able to resist him just as I wasn't able to resist you. I've only seen him twice and already my attraction and need for him is unbelievably strong. It's terrifying."

Neither of us begins the war, instead Alice sighs and takes my hand from across the table.

"Bells, don't deny yourself love on the account of fear. Love is what makes life worth living. This could be your chance at the true love that people search their whole lives for and you're just going to let the opportunity to capture that pass you by because of fear?"

"Ali…I've spent the past hour imagining every possible way you could die and I'm barely able to fight the urge to lock you in a cage and throw away the key." I confess, trying to make her understand the extent of my problem. Her hand doesn't move from mine and it's comforting to know I didn't scare her. "If I have such a hard time controlling my anxiety over you, how would I ever control it with him? And what makes you think he would want me anyway?"

Alice snorts and I glare at her.

"You're the shit, Bells, issues or not. With the right help you'll get over this and any guy who doesn't want you is an idiot,"

"You're my friend, you're supposed to lie to me," I roll my eyes and she releases my hand.

"I'm not your friend…I'm your best friend and best friends tell it like it is."

She laughs as she places three cards face down on her side, and with a shake of my head, I do the same.

"How about this, we'll leave it up to fate," she suggests. There's a glimmer of mischief in Alice's gray eyes and I don't know if I like it or not. She likes betting far too much. "If _I_ win this hand you go back to taking your old route and let the chips fall where they may, and if _you_ win this hand, I'll do everything in my power to help you stay away from him."

I'm not normally the gambling type, but having Alice on my side to hold me back would help me out a lot if I ever run into Edward again. Not to mention, I know I have a queen in my deck somewhere and I only have two cards left in my hand so there's a good possibility I could win.

"Deal," I agree, and we both flip over our cards…she wins, king over queen. Note to self, never bet against Alice.

Right around noon there's a knock at the door and while Alice rushes to fix her hair, for the billionth time, I answer it. It's Jasper of course…and Emmett.

"Oh, hi," I wasn't expecting both of them and my voice trembles a bit at the sight, the brothers are wearing big, warm, matching smiles. I suddenly realize how terrible this idea is. What if they're murderers? What if they hurt Alice? I push my anxious thoughts away the best I can and open the door fully, moving out of the way "Um, come on in."

They step into the apartment and Emmett asks to use the bathroom just as Alice emerges, her hair and make-up still perfect as ever. He winces a little and I wonder if I should ask him if he's feeling all right, but I decide against it.

"Yeah, sure," He says a quick 'thanks' and disappears into the bathroom.

Alice and Jasper sit on the couch and I watch as they lock eyes on each other like two kids having a starring contest. I wonder which one will break first. Finally, after what seems like hours, but is probably only minutes, Jasper starts spitting out the most finely worded apology I've ever heard.

"I feel dreadful about what happened yesterday and I couldn't even sleep last night because I was so worried about you. I will never forgive myself if you suffer permanent emotional trauma based on my actions. I understand if you're livid with me and I would completely understand if you refused to speak to me ever again, but I'd like it very much if you gave me the opportunity to gain your forgiveness."

Alice takes in his words, no doubt trying to stop herself from gazing at his 'gorgeous hair' that she's so obsessed with, and after a few tense moments, the flood gates on her mouth break and she floods the poor bastard with all her verbal force.

"Oh my god, Jazzy, you're so thoughtful. I'll be just fine and of course, I'm not mad at you. Why would you think I was mad at you? Are you mad at me?"

I hear Emmett snort behind me and I attempt to hold back a laugh of my own as Jasper scrambles to reply to the crazy pixie's rambling.

"No, I'm not angry with you at all. I just, I thought that you would despise me for distracting you while you were working. I almost cost you your employment and I hold myself fully responsible."

Emmett starts hacking and gasping, and I feel for him, I do, because I can barely contain my amusement at the odd couple. I glance in his direction, giving him a smirk and he finally reins himself in.

"Ahem, sorry about that, I had a tickle in my throat,"

Sure, you did and I'm the queen of England. Alice shoots us a glare and I roll my eyes. I can't help it that the two of them are polar opposites and it's hilarious.

"Would you like something to drink?" I ask, giving Emmett the opportunity to walk at least a few feet away from the crushing pair.

"Sure, that would be great, thanks,"

I walk over to the fridge and look inside…nothing. When's my next paycheck? I calculate it in my head hastily, Friday, damn.

"Sorry, all I have is water. Is that okay?" I question him, knowing perfectly well he's not thirsty anyway so it doesn't really matter.

"Yeah, that's fine,"

He drinks down the water fast, like really fast. Jeez, the guy must really like water. I wonder if there's a Guinness world record for fastest recorded time to drink a glass of water. I'm pretty sure if there is and Mr. Brawny took a crack at it, he could destroy it.

Alice and Jasper's voices are quieter now; it seems they don't like having an audience laugh at them so they're whispering to each other. I try not to listen to them, but I can definitely hear a lot more Alice than Jasper, so much for shyness. When Emmett and I walk into the living room and sit on the floor, Jasper and Alice look over at us, including us in their little powwow. Well, kind of, they at least pretend to care when Emmett starts talking.

"That's a lot of books," he says, pointing out the stacks on the floor and the full shelves underneath the television

"I love to read,"

He reaches over and grabs the top one off the stack closest to him.

"Romeo and Juliet? Really?" Emmett questions, quirking up an eyebrow at me.

"He doesn't get how anyone can like Shakespeare," Jasper groans.

"It makes no sense. The guy wrote a bunch of depressing stories with words like whilst and tis. I don't understand why anybody likes to read it. I would rather read a copy of Sports Illustrated any day," Emmett counters, and I laugh at his macho man view.

"I've always enjoyed the classics and there's something about Romeo and Juliet that gets my heart pumping. I guess, deep down, I'm a hopeless romantic."

"The story of Romeo and Juliet is completely unrealistic though. No one falls in love that hard or fast. Besides, don't most girls like to take relationships slow?"

A picture of Edward comes to mind and my response is immediate.

"Sometimes hard and fast is just what you need though."

Alice and Jasper gaze at each other and I can see how connected they are. Emmett looks at them and gives a shrug. I think he sees it too.

"So, Bella, I saw you guys at the art show the other day, what did you think of it?" Emmett asks after a few moments of silence, gaining the attention back from the two lovebirds.

"Oh, um, art's never really been a passion of mine, those pieces were wonderful though. I felt oddly connected with them," I say, my voice coming out nervous and unsure. I don't really like discussing things I'm not educated about. "Who's the artist?"

Emmett's face changes to a strange expression and I find myself confused, both Jasper and Alice seem to be perplexed as well.

"It's our brother, actually. I'm his manager."

Oh, they have another brother. I wonder if Emmett's just uncomfortable talking about him for some reason and that's why his demeanor changed.

"Yeah, Edward's an amazing artist," Jasper adds and my lungs stop working as the pieces slide into place.

The painting of the girl in the leather and lace, the eyes that Alice said were just like mine... The mystery art show was Edward Cullen's work and his brothers are sitting in my living room.

"I told you it was you!" Alice squeals and my face feels like liquid hot lava.

Jasper appears to be unsure of what is going on, but Emmett is avoiding my gaze as if he'll die if he looks in my direction. No wonder he started acting weird when it came to talking about Edward, he probably told him all about me, and now Emmett thinks I'm some sort of a slut. This is not happening; this can't be happening. The room spins as my heart races, I forget to breath, and suddenly, everything goes black. It turns out I had no chance against Alice's bet anyway because fate is a conniving bitch.


	15. Falling with Wings

**Chapter 14**

**Falling with Wings**

"She said, 'I'm afraid of falling...' and he whispered, 'I have wings.'"~ Harlem Shake

**EPOV**

There's a loud thud and I can feel my pulse racing as the silence takes over. I have no idea what's going on, but I can't suspect it's anything good because when the shuffling noises and voices pick back up I can't decipher what anyone's saying, they're all speaking over each other in panicky tones.

"What the-"

"Em, help me sit her-"

"Bella! Bella, wake-"

"I need you to move, Alice, I have to check her pulse."

The last comment is substantial enough for me to know something's wrong with Bella and the knowledge sends my heart into triple overdrive. I press the button on the side of the walkie-talkie. I don't know if I necessarily mean to shout the words at Emmett, but I do.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Fuck!" Emmett hisses loudly. "Goddamn it, Edward. You nearly busted out my fucking ear drum."

"Her pulse is steady; it looks like she just fainted, she'll come around in a minute," Jasper states and I breathe out a huge sigh of relief. However, the relief is quickly replaced with anxiety when Jasper begins questioning Emmett. "Did you seriously just pull an earpiece out of your ear and address Edward who's not here?"

"I-, um,"

"Where's the microphone, Em?" Jasper sighs.

"What? I-, I don't know what you're talking about," Emmett replies, his voice faltering a little.

Fuckity, fuck, fuck…We're screwed. Emmett's inability to hold up under pressure is no secret and Jasper has the skill of cracking him down to a fine tuned science. Seriously, I could bet money on Emmett crumbling.

"Don't fuck this up, please don't let him fuck this up," I whisper the words out into the universe as I cross my fingers.

"We both know I'll figure it out anyway. Just tell me and get it over with."

"It's just a hearing aid, Jazz. You know me, too many loud video games. Doctor says I'm practically deaf in my right ear,"

"You pulled it out of your left ear,"

I can hear footsteps and Emmett's shaky breathing. A part of me actually feels like if I were to listen hard enough I could hear his blood rushing in his veins.

"Oh, right, yeah, it's both ears."

There's a loud noise over the speaker, a ripping sound like a shirt. Jasper always did know how to catch Emmett off guard.

"Would you like to explain why you're wearing a wire under your button up? Because that seems kind of odd to me," Jasper asks, clearly pissed off, annoyed, and confused. "In fact, everything about this situation seems odd to me. Why in the hell would Edward need to know what's going on here?"

I can feel my palms and face sweating with fear. Son of a bitch…I resist the urge to bang my head on the table, but I do fist my hands deep into my hair, pulling harder than I normally do. The pain keeps me from breaking things.

"A-, a wire-, oh my god, Emmett, were you-, were you spying on Bella for Edward?" Alice asks, shock evident in her tone.

"I-, uh…shit!" Emmett stammers over words and it's official, we're fucked, completely and utterly fucked. "He made me do it! He paid me 35 grand for Pete sake."

"Out!" Alice shouts angrily, practically snarling.

"I am so sorry, Alice. You have to believe me; I had no clue about all this."

"Just leave, both of you," Alice says, sounding defeated and upset.

"What the hell is going on?" I hear Bella mumble softly in the background and then the radio goes completely quiet. Someone shut it off.

* * *

It's the end of October, which means it's been a month since Bella appeared in the real world, four long weeks of sheer torture. I'll admit I brought it upon myself the day I sent Emmett into Bella's apartment. If I hadn't sent him there to spy on her, Bella probably wouldn't have spent the last month refusing to come within 10 feet of me, Alice wouldn't have gone into personal bodyguard mode, and Jasper would actually be talking to me. I guess I should consider myself lucky, at least no one except Emmett knows the _true_ extent of my longing for Bella, and he's showing pity on me by not telling the others about the many years that I have spent painting her, hallucinating her, and dreaming of her. Emmett may be protecting me, but like Jasper, he won't talk to me, at least not about anything that's not business related. Once Alice and Bella discovered Jasper was innocent they forgave him quickly, but Emmett didn't gain his forgiveness back until a week and a half ago so he probably doesn't want to push his luck by talking to me. Not to mention, contact with me would risk his new growing relationship with Rosalie, who's firmly planted on the girls' side of the whole stalking debacle. It's all good though, I know exactly how I'm going to win them all over, and I have help from a very unlikely person.

For the first two weeks after the stalking incident, I came into Toffee Coffee every day hoping to get Bella to talk to me. I thought it would be easy enough to fix everything if I just had the chance to explain, but every time I would walk in the coffee shop, Bella would retreat into the back room, and Alice would step in to take my order, giving me a death glare. Finally, I gave up on trying to get pass Alice; instead, I tried to convince Alice to let me explain myself to her. It took a week, but she agreed eventually to meet me in 'Still Life'.

_I racked my brain all night the night before I was set to meet Alice about what exactly I would say, but nothing I could think of seemed to frame me in a better light. To Alice and everyone else I was nothing but a crazy stalker, and through their eyes, I would have to agree. I craved Bella like a junkie, her beauty, her voice, her scent, her touch, her taste; she was like a drug to me. Through my eyes, she was not just an obsession though; she was my salvation, my reason for trudging through the day to day. Over the past three weeks without her, I had fallen back into old habits of staying up late and painting still after still of Bella until my fingers cramped. I had lost ten pounds and I felt weak and empty. The hallucinations came, but they were foggy and they didn't satisfy me the way they once had because I knew the real thing was a million times better. Lonely, I was so lonely and desperate, I didn't know what to do to make things right. I decided on the truth, at least the closest thing to the truth that I felt comfortable sharing._

_It took hours of searching the studio to find just the right paintings to bring. The first one was the hardest to find, I had to move dozens of other canvases around to get to it. The painting was one that I had done shortly after being visited for the first time by my hallucination. It was painted so that the viewer was looking down on a young woman, a woman that looked like my Bella in every way, but wasn't. She was dressed in a dark blue dress and lying across a flat rock in the middle of a raging ocean. Her chestnut hair whipped around her in the wind, her arms rested clasped together on her stomach, her lips were set in a flat line, and her eyes were distant as if she wasn't staring at the viewer of the painting, but searching for something that she couldn't find in the sky above her. The piece was beautiful, it gave me all the warm feelings of an extraordinary work of art, but it wasn't my Bella because I didn't feel it in my heart, it was as if it was missing the substance that makes Bella, Bella._

_The other painting I chose was a part of my new collection, a series of paintings of the two of us together. It's something I never painted before we met in real life. It never felt right for me to include myself, but now it just seemed like that was the way she was meant to be painted, with me. We were lying on our sides next to one another in a meadow of green grass and purple flowers and everything around us was fuzzy and unclear. We looked happy, like lovers on a warm summer afternoon. I was tucking her hair behind her ear and we were staring at each other with such devotion that it made the world slip out of focus. Looking at the piece made my heart clench immediately like a vice grip, it made me ache all the way to my core. To covet another so madly and deeply like that, to the point where nothing sooths the pain at their absence, is agony. I expect that is what it feels like to have a piece of your own soul missing. Only the paintings after I met her made me feel like that, they have that strange substance that was missing before. I like to think it's because I've captured a piece of her soul just as she has captured mine._

_I carried the two canvases down to 'Still Life', propped them against the side of the dome shaped tree structure, covered them with a cloth, and waited for Alice to arrive. She showed up a quarter after two just as we had agreed. There was a hardness to the expression on her face, anger mixed with hopelessness. I reached out my hand to hers, but she refused to shake it, I gave a shrug, trying to let my anger at her hostility roll off my shoulder._

" _Just tell me what it is you wanted to say," she said harshly. "Bella's waiting for me to get home."_

_I pulled the cover from the canvasses, and gestured for her to look at them. She did, but her face was still hard, she was unable to comprehend the meaning of the paintings. I felt like an idiot for not realizing that would happen, of course she wouldn't understand them, only I did...I made a conscious decision to try and get some sleep to help my barely functioning brain, I doubted it would happen. I would have to explain the difference between the two images as best I could; I would leave out the details._

" _This is going to sound crazy, but the one of the ocean I painted before I ever saw Bella," I paused and Alice looked at me with furrowed brows as if she was unsure whether or not to believe me, I shrugged. "Believe it or not, it's true. I've been dreaming about her for a long time. Hell, I was convinced that I was insane the first time I saw her."_

_I purposely left out exactly how long was a 'long time' and the fact that I knew I was insane the first time I saw her because I thought I was hallucinating. I had no doubt that both bits of information would only send her running for the hills._

" _Okay," Alice said, still appearing somewhat skeptical. "So what does that have to do with this the other painting, the meadow?"_

" _Well, that one I painted a week ago," I gazed at the image of the two of us and Alice's eyes followed, "and in all the times I've painted her, not once have I painted the two of us together. It never felt appropriate…until now. You have to feel something when you look at that image, Alice, a sense of rightness. I would never hurt Bella; I'm devoted to her so deeply that the rest of the world is meaningless. I only want her to be happy…I think she could be happy with me."_

_Her eyes glazed over with wetness, her face softened and for a while, she simply stood there, staring until I couldn't take the silence anymore._

" _Do you know what it's like to be distanced from a piece of your soul?" I asked her. Alice didn't answer so I continued. "Could you imagine if you found that piece how frightened you would be of having it taken away? I have dreamed of her for so long and when I saw her, it was as if I just had to know her. I wanted her to feel everything I feel for her, and I was so afraid that she wouldn't. I was trying to avoid losing that piece of my soul, Alice, I couldn't afford to lose it…I only wanted to know how to make her happy, how to make her want to be with me. Paying Emmett to do what he did was wrong and I'm sorry. I was so afraid of ending up in this position, of Bella hating me, that I ended up_ _ **making**_ _her hate me."_

_There was silence for a couple of moments._

" _She doesn't hate you," Alice spoke softly. "She's afraid of you."_

" _I don't want her to be afraid of me either!" I hollered, trying to hold back the tears that threatened my eyes as I clutched her shoulders. "Look at me! Don't you understand that I can't live without her? I eat, sleep, and breathe, but only because of her. Even before I knew her, she was what kept me going, and I can't let her go without trying, I can't make myself stay away, not until I at least know, without a doubt, that I'm not what she wants."_

_Her eyes locked with mine and the tears started to roll down my face. I didn't even bother to hide them. I was at the end of my rope._

" _Please, I'll do anything for her. Just tell me what I can do that will show her how much I care about her, that will open her up to the idea of caring about me in the same way," I begged, dropping to my knees in front of the tiny girl and grasping her hands. "Please."_

" _I can't," Alice whispered and I looked up at her through my blurred vision, my final bit of hope dying. "She already cares about you. That's why she's afraid."_

I left 'Still Life' feeling terrified and ecstatic at the same time. Alice wouldn't tell me much, she claimed it wasn't her story to tell, but she did tell me enough to explain why Bella is avoiding me and why she's been helping her. She told me that Bella is afraid of intimacy and getting close to me scares her out of her wits (not very flattering, but helpful). It turns out the stalking thing had surprisingly not affected Bella's opinion of me at all; it just had pissed off Alice, which gave Bella enough incentive to gain Alice's help in keeping her away from me. Now that I had righted things with Alice however, and proven myself, she agreed to help me, but only in secret. We've spent the last week planning my redemption, talking over the phone like teenagers hiding from their parents, and tonight operation 'Make Bella Want Me' is going to be put into action. There's even a possibility that I'll be able to kill two birds with one stone. I reach into the package that I just received and pull out the ranger costume with a groan. As I put on the forest green outfit, I tell myself it's to win back my brothers' trust; it doesn't make me feel any better about it.

I arrive to the Halloween party at Emmett and Jasper's condo just after seven, and find myself surrounded by people. Most of them must be Jasper's friends from school, but some of them I recognize as coworkers of Bella and Alice. There's a girl with light brown hair and kind brown eyes dressed as cat woman that I think is Angela, and beside her is Ben, his black hair covered by a batman mask. They're both mingling with a few guys dressed as football players. I avoid them, as well as anyone else who looks familiar as I search the area for Bella and my brothers.

It doesn't take long to track down Emmett, who's standing in the kitchen, holding on to a beer. True to his original plan, he's wearing a Yogi Bear costume with a picnic basket full of beer hanging from his arm. He's taken off the bear head in order to drink and beside him Rosalie, dressed as a 50s pin up girl, actually seems to be enjoying his company, laughing and smiling when he crushes the beer can against his forehead with a bear growl. Also in the kitchen is Alice, dressed as a green fairy (how appropriate) and standing next to her is Jasper, looking both annoyed and strangely honored to be wearing his Boo Boo costume. I don't see Bella, which means Alice has already sent her somewhere as we planned. Good…I really don't want her to see me do this. I make sure the ranger hat is straight and take a deep breath before walking into the kitchen, my black boots hitting the tile floors with two distinctive thumps.

"YOGI!" I shout, putting my hands on my waist. "How many times have I told you not to steal picnic baskets from our patrons? I turn my back on you for two minutes and you've got another one, what do you have to say for yourself?"

Everyone's completely silent for a moment, as if they don't know what to say and then I see a smile creep onto Emmett's face, one of those shit-eating grins that make it impossible not to love the guy. Alice appears pleased as well and even Jasper smirks a bit. Rosalie, however, stays stiff as ice.

"I'm smarter than the average bear…I know it's cheaper to steal beer then to buy it," Emmett laughs and the others follow, except Rosalie of course.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She snaps.

Alice waves her hand, gesturing for me to dismiss Rosalie. We both already discussed how she would be the hardest one to win over. It's definitely not something that's going to happen in a night.

"She's up on the roof," Alice says and I tip my hat at her in thanks.

I can hear Rosalie screaming at her as soon as I step out of the kitchen. I really owe that pixie. The access door to the roof is just opposite of my brothers' front door. They use the space when they have parties as a kind of quiet retreat. I can still hear Rosalie's screaming from the hallway. I really owe that pixie big time. When I step out the door, onto the roof, the first thing I notice is Bella. She's about 30 feet away, sitting on a bench with a red Dixie cup in her hand, and she's wearing a short, white dress and wings, fucking angel wings with white feathers. Her hairs curled in big, loose curls and she's smiling a big, bright smile. I want to fall to the ground right then and praise at her feet. My Bella, my beautiful, angelic Bella…It's not until I take a step forward that I come to the realization that she's not alone. There's a guy with her, a tan guy dressed as a biker with no shirt under his leather vest and his long brown hair tied up in the back. I think his name is Jake. He works with Bella and he's sitting next to her. Neither of them has noticed me yet, they're too busy staring at each other.

"I've been watching you for a long time and I've tried to keep my distance and be your friend, but the more I think about you the more I know that I'm in love with you," he tells her this and my heart sinks into the pit of my stomach.

I want to vomit. I want to punch him square in the face. I want to scream, 'No, she's mine!'

Both their heads turn quickly in my direction as Bella lets out a gasp…shit, did I say that aloud?

"Excuse me?" Jake questions, quirking an eyebrow at me as if I'm fucking crazy.

Yep, definitely said that aloud, well, fuck, might as well go all in now.

"You heard me," I snarl. "She's mine so get lost."

He stands up and walks toward me, a menacing grin spreading across his face.

"I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but if you think I'm going to sit back and let you-" Bella comes up behind him and grasps his arm, cutting Jake off. I watch as her face cringes at the contact and my heart clenches. Alice told me how hard that is for her, to touch people. I can't imagine what that must feel like.

"Jake, go back to the party," she says, freeing her hold on his arm with a sigh of relief.

"I don't feel comfortable leaving you with this guy, Bells," he counters, looking from me to her then back to me with a defensive gaze.

"Please go back to the party, I'll be fine," she gives him a reassuring smile. "Leah's waiting for you."

Bella and I look at each other and I watch her chest rise and fall as her breathing speeds up.

"Alright, just…be careful okay?"

"Yeah," she answers him, not even averting her eyes from mine and I hear the sound of his footsteps retreating on the stairs.

"Hi," I say the word softly, like a frightened teenage boy encountering his first crush, and Bella launches herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck, tossing my hat, and burying her hands in my hair as her lips collide with mine.

I stagger backwards, shocked and overjoyed before my arms find their way around her waist, and I steady myself, letting out a deep, satisfied moan as I press her body into mine. The world disappears, flickering and fading to nothing around us as hands meet skin, fabric, and hair. She opens her mouth to me and our tongues slide along one another and I growl, savoring her sweet strawberry essence like a fiend.

Bella releases a muffled cry against my lips and I realize we both need to breathe, but I can't bring myself to take my mouth away from her. Her name falls from my lips repeatedly as I kiss around her panting lips, down her jaw. I run my tongue along her neck, one long lick that makes her cry out.

"Edward!"

My brain checks out at the glorious sound and I lift her up, slamming the door closed with my booted foot before pressing her against it.

"Yes!" She screams, her legs encircle my waist and I feel whole and strong…I feel saved.

"Touch me, Edward," Bella pleads, grinding her body against my rock hard length and even through the fabric, it's so intense that I have to grit my teeth not to cum.

I didn't plan for this to happen, but I can't stop…there's just no fucking way.

"Anything you want, love, anything."

Reaching between us, I place my hand on her thigh and watch as her eyes roll back into her head. Slowly, inch by inch, I slip my hand up, underneath the hem of her dress, until my fingers touch wet lace and Bella bucks into my hand, tugging at my hair.

I can't think, I can't function, and I quickly discover the filter between my brain and my mouth is gone.

"Is this all for me, angel? Are you all fucking drenched for me?" I whisper, ghosting my fingers across the wet lace.

Bella's breathing falters and she nods, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth to stifle her whimpers. We can't have that. Leaning forward I suck her lip between mine and pull it free.

"I want to hear you," I whisper. I hook my fingers into her thong and pinch her clit.

"Oh god!" she cries and I let out a dark chuckle.

"Good girl, I want to hear every fucking noise you make for me, understand?" I pinch her clit again and she nods her head vigorously as her legs shake around me, making my cock twitch.

"Can you feel how much my cock wants you, beautiful?" I ask, stroking her clit with my thumb, teasingly.

"Yes, you're so fucking hard," she moans, her thighs quaking at my touch.

"Pull down the top of your dress, Bella, let me see those perfect tits of yours." Her hands scramble to do what I ask, and within seconds, her hard pink nipples are poking out, causing me to lick my lips. "Which one should I suck on first, love? Right or left?"

I start stroking her faster as she tries to concentrate on the question, making her moan incoherently.

"Oh…uh…ugh…my…Edward, left!"

Immediately, I wrap my warm mouth around the taut peak, flicking it with my tongue a few times while working her clit in faster and faster circles.

"Holy shit! Edward," I release her left nipple and move to the other, nibbling slightly as I breath heavily.

"Feels so good…don't stop, don't stop," she begs and I growl against her skin, picking up speed as she bucks into my hand, desperate to see her fall apart at my touch.

"Fuck, I'm going to-" Her eyelids droop, she shudders, and I bite down lightly on her tit, sending her tumbling over the edge howling my name as I grin in triumph.

"You look fucking amazing when you cum," I tell her in awe. She pants for air and I can feel how cold her skin is despite are activities. I need to get her inside. I hold her as she descends from her high, my cock aching and throbbing, but I ignore the pain, wiping the excess of her juices on her thigh before fixing her dress and lowering her gently to the ground. I smile at her and after a few moments, she finally speaks.

"What about you?" she asks.

"Don't worry about it," I assure her, although she pouts. Reaching up, I cup her cheek with my hand. "It's too cold to stay out here; I don't want you to get sick."

She smiles mischievously, and I don't even realize her hands moving until she rubs me through my pants.

"Fuck…Bella," I hiss, dropping my hand from her face. "You're freezing. Please let me take you inside."

There's desperation in my voice, but I don't have the will to stop her. She unzips my pants and pulls me from my jeans, and I watch as she strokes me once, tentatively.

"God, I fucking love your cock," she states in a husky whisper, fondling the metal at the tip.

"Fucking hell," I whimper, bracing my hand on the door behind her to stop myself from falling.

"I think I know why you like talking so much now," she leans forward to nibble on my ear and I feel myself twitch in her hot grasp. "You like control, don't you?"

She starts stroking me with purpose and I feel my stomach twist and knot.

"God, yes," I groan. "I love hearing what I can do to you. I love listening to your every dirty thought."

She smirks, continuing to stroke me, and I bury my face in her neck, where I begin licking and sucking, nibbling and biting, causing her to whimper.

"That's it, baby…oh, those are the hot fucking noises that get me off…Jesus. Tell me how bad you want me to cum, beg me to cum in your dirty little hand, Bella…ugh!"

"Be a good boy and cum for me. Cum for me now, Edward," she commands me and my cock stiffens at the order, my knees shake as my release hits me and the world flashes a thousand colors.

"FUCK!"

When I'm finally able to get my bearings and remove my head from the crook of her neck, it doesn't take me long to notice that Bella's licking her hand clean and purring with satisfaction. It's in that moment that I know I've fallen and there's no way in hell I'm getting back up.


	16. Playing for Keeps

**Chapter 15**

**Playing for Keeps**

"Can I keep you?"~ Casper the friendly ghost

**BPOV**

I notice Edward staring at me, his emerald eyes blank of thought, and I quickly move my hand away from my greedy mouth as a scorching heat works its way into my cheeks. I have no idea what came over me. It's as if I couldn't help myself, I had to taste him. The hot, sweet tang of Edward on my tongue makes me feel warm inside and powerful, so powerful, but I'm also absolutely mortified. It's only a matter of time before he's going to conclude that I'm a freak and run for the hills. I may not know a lot about sex first hand, I've watched porn before though. No normal girl does what I just did, not so soon after meeting someone. A blowjob sure, but licking him off my hand? Yeah, that's definitely not normal. He's going to think I'm a hoe, the type of girl you can never take out in public or home to mom. His eyes are so intense on me that I feel if I were to look hard enough, I could see the wheels of his mind turning, the decision to leave me formulating. He'll placate me for the rest of the night and then he'll tell me that he's going to call and never will. My heart picks up pace, sputtering in my chest as my lungs constrict. The panic's setting in. I reach out to him, wrapping my fists in the fabric of his shirt as he continues to gaze at me in shock. A gasp escapes him when I tug on it, desperately pulling him closer, needing to feel him against me.

"I can't let you leave me, Edward, not ever, not even for five minutes. I'll die, I'll die if you go," I whimper, and I realize as the words pass my lips how psychotic and clingy I must sound. Can I really blame him for wanting to run?

It's obvious that I have no self-control, no ability to stop myself from touching him, from being connected to him in some way, anyway, and who in their right mind would want to be with a girl like that? My stomach knots as the different emotions flip and flop around, churning in me. This is what I've been afraid of; this is why I've been keeping him away. Nearly a month of avoiding and now he's found me and I don't know how to let go. I don't know what to do. The flight or fight reflex kicks in and my brain tells me to run, run as far and fast as my feet will carry me, despite the pain in my chest, until I can't run anymore. My heart, however, says to clutch onto him so tight that he won't ever be able to leave, handcuff him to me, find some voodoo elixir that gives us both eternal life, and force him to take it. The heart combats the brain and wins; I grasp his form, burying my head into his shoulder.

I inhale and exhale rapidly, shallow breaths that make it hard to think. I'm hyperventilating, sucking in his scent with every breath, sweet cinnamon clogging my already dizzy brain.

"Bella," he says my name, concern thick in his velvety voice and I choke on my limited air supply when he grabs my arms and pulls me from him so he can look into my eyes.

I want to beg and plead for him not to push me away, only I can't find the air to do so. Every breath is harder than the one before. Tears, wet and hot, begin to fall from my eyes, each one holding words I can not speak; 'don't leave me', 'hold me', 'be mine always', 'love me'.

"Bella, breathe!" He shouts, his green eyes swimming with worry and I feel the world slipping, the light from the city skyline blurring…his lips crushing mine, warm and delicious, his arms wrapping around me and pressing me into the door, leaving not a millimeter of space between our bodies.

I notice he's hard against me for the second time tonight and the air starts to come easier. He wants me, maybe not all of me, but at least my body.

"Edward," I pant around his lips and against my will, he releases them. "No, don't stop."

"I have to, Bella. We have to go inside before you freeze to death." His voice is husky with lust and still thick with concern.

I'm hoping the lust will win out so I kiss his neck, savoring the tender skin. This one spot of exposed skin is ice cold and I know I'm even colder in my tiny Halloween costume. My arms, legs, and lips are shivering with chill. If I only get to have him here on this roof though, if I never get to see him past this, I want all the time I can get. I slide my fingers up into his wild hair and tug, forcing his head back a little as I nip and suck at his neck.

"B-, B-, Bella, oh god," he whimpers, and I think I have the upper hand until I feel his knees bending, his right arm slipping behind my knees and his left cradling my back.

I gasp when he picks me up off the ground, squeezing him tightly in fear of falling, and he chuckles, his chest vibrating my body. I'm stunned into silence as he opens the door and walks us down the steps, setting me back down lightly on my feet in the hall just outside Jasper and Emmett's apartment. He pries loose from my hold, and reaches up to cup my cheek, capturing my lips once again for a brief kiss. There must be agony on my face when he leans away because he lingers after ward, blowing his breath on me as if he's afraid. Of course, he's afraid, I'm acting psychotic.

"Don't leave me," I plead, my words coming out through chocked sobs.

"I'll be back, baby. Keep your eyes closed and count to 15 for me, and I'll be back before you even have time to finish," he whispers to me and then, just like that, he's gone.

The hyperventilating immediately starts back up, but I hold it at bay, trying to do what Edward asked. I need to do this for him. I would do anything for him. I keep my eyes shut and count. One…two…God, why does this have to hurt so badly? I could swear my heart is being squeezed, crushed from the inside like a piece of over-ripened fruit. Three…four…Fuck, I want to scream; I want to scream and cry and stomp my feet as a 3 year old with a missing toy would. Five…six…I realize my teeth are chattering. I'm still cold even in the warm hallway. I remember his body, how hot it was pressed into mine and I force my knees to lock so I won't tumble to the floor and curl up in a ball. Seven…eight… I feel weak, like I'm going to crumble to pieces where I stand. Where did he go and why isn't he back yet? What part of I'll die without him does he not understand? Nine…ten…I feel the tears building. He's not coming back. He's left me here and he doesn't want me, not even my body. Eleven…twelve…

"Bella,"

My eyes snap open and I launch myself at Edward, hugging him as he wraps me in both my coat and his. He must have gone inside to find them and up onto the roof too because he has his hat back on. Wow, he moves fast. I inhale his scent; soak myself in it. He smells like home.

"Come home with me?" he whispers so soft that I can barely hear him, and I nod into his chest. I feel him shift and notice that he's trying to walk, but I'm clinging to him like a child. He chuckles again. "It might be easier if you hold my hand."

"Oh my god," I state, completely chagrined by my behavior. I shake my head as heat builds in my face and reach for his hand. "You must think I'm fucking insane."

"A little," he admits, giving me a crocked smile. "I believe I fit more into that category than you do though."

I look at him confused and he simply shrugs. We walk together towards the parking garage, and when we reach a beautiful, slick black car, he takes me around to the passenger side where he opens the door. I'm just about to get in when I remember something.

"Wait! Alice, what about Alice?" I ask, turning around quickly with Edward's hand still in mine, causing him to nearly fall. Another blush hits me at my stupidity. "Shit, I'm sorry."

I expect him to be frustrated by me or angry, but he just laughs. It's not a small laugh either; it's a big laugh. It echoes throughout the parking structure, bouncing off concrete walls, and I find that I'm angry, not him. I let out a sigh, the last thing I need right now is him laughing at me. He notices my change in mood and stops laughing to reassure me with a smile

"Bella, relax," he says simply, squeezing my hand once. "I'm not laughing at you; I'm laughing at the situation. You have to admit, you almost making me fall on my face is funny."

He wags one of his eyebrows at me and the anger inside of me melts away. I giggle.

"That's what I thought," he responds. "As for Alice, she told me to tell you she'll be fine. Emmett and Jasper will take her home or she'll stay here tonight. I trust my brothers with my life, Bella; she'll be fine with them."

Huh?

"Okay, I'm confused. Why the hell is Alice okay with you taking me to your place?"

"I'll explain on the way." He helps me into the car, but when he tries to take his hand away, I won't let him. "Four seconds max, baby, I promise."

I force myself to relinquish my hold on him and fight back the sickness in my stomach as I watch him walk around the front of the car. Before he's even situated in the driver's seat, he's grasping my hand again. I look between us and realize that the car is a manual and I let out a groan. How is he going to hold my hand? For a second, I think I'm going to panic, but Edward has it all figured out. He cups my hand over the gearshift and places his on top.

"Have you ever operated a stick shift, Bella?" He asks, and I shake my head in response as he chuckles, his green eyes sparkling mischievously. "I never would have guessed. You're very good with your hands. I figured you'd never driven anything, but a manual."

My face burns as he fires up the engine and he moves our hands as one, slipping the car into gear and pulling out of the parking spot. There's a comfortable silence as we drive out onto the main road and I become mesmerized by the jerks of his arm, the feel of his strong fingers caressing the top of my own digits. I shift my thighs as a wave of heat floods me and I let out a soft moan. Edward's eyes flicker quickly to mine and back to the road.

"Are you alright?"

I swallow back the lump in my throat and murmur a yes.

"I-, I just never thought something like this could be so…," I pause, wondering if I should really say what I'm thinking and Edward squeezes my hand as he shifts again, the word falls out, "sensual."

He squirms in his seat with a groan and I look at him through lidded eyes. I want him…I want him right now. NO! You need to talk, Bella, talk to him and get to know him. Talk now, sex later.

I clear my throat nervously and force my eyes to look somewhere else, anywhere except at him.

"So, why is Alice okay with this?" I ask, my voice shaky.

"Well, uh, she kind of forgave me for the whole microphone fiasco…by the way, I'm really sorry about that." His tone is uneven with worry. "It was so stupid. I have a reason for why I did it, and it's a good one, I promise. It's the only reason why Alice trusts me. I-, it's kind of-, actually, would it be okay if I don't tell you quite yet? I want you to get the chance to know me first, to know that I'm not like that."

His question scares me, not like it would scare a normal girl though; a normal girl would encounter a stalker and file a police report against him because she's scared shitless of him killing her. No, it scares me because I'm not scared. Honestly, he could tell me he's a homicidal maniac who wants to drain me of all my blood and I would probably slice open a vein for him. Shouldn't that bother me? I look at him; the tension in his neck and face as he waits for a response hurts me. There's no way I could say no.

"That's fine. The truth is I want to get to know you, Edward," I tell him. He breathes out a sigh of relief and turns into his own parking structure, pulling into a spot by an elevator.

When he shuts the engine off, there's a crackling silence in the car, an energetic heat circulating around us both.

"I want to know you too," he says. Lifting my hand to his lips, he kisses my knuckles and I feel lighter than I've ever felt before. "I want to know everything about you."

I wonder if he really means that or if it's just a ploy to get me upstairs. Either way I can't stop myself from going.

Walking into his apartment is like taking a step into my own personal heaven. It smells like Edward, it even feels like Edward. We both kick off our shoes and he helps me take off my wings before walking me through each room. As we walk, he points out things that are special to him. It starts with a picture of him with his family on the mantle in the living room (I note that he looks a lot like his mother and that Emmett and Jasper look more like their father). He shows me a worn out green blanket that he's had since he was a kid thrown across the back of the couch, and even his favorite soda (mountain dew) in the fridge. He shows me everything, but what's behind the closed door next to his bedroom. When I ask him what's in there, he says it's his art studio. He says that it's messy right now and that he'll take me in there some other time. I kind of have a feeling that he's lying about that but I let it go. I can't expect him to be ready to share everything; I know I'm not.

He takes me into the bedroom and I smile at the white linen on the bed, remembering how soft the comforter was, almost like laying on a cloud. I'm stuck admiring it when I notice Edward's hand slipping from my hold and down my arm. He moves behind me, encircling me with his arms and I melt into him, my head lulling back onto his shoulder.

"I thought you looked like an angel that morning, sprawled across my sheets," he whispers into my ear and I shiver. "But when you started screaming my name, you were all passion and fire, a seductive devil. So now, you have me all confused. Help me get to know you, baby; tell me, are you a bad girl, or a good girl?"

I suck in a breath of air as his hands move down towards the heat between my thighs. He runs fingers up the sides of my skin, underneath my dress, and grazes the wetness that coats me.

"Edward," I pant, fire burning in the pit of my stomach.

"Answer me, Bella," he growls, pressing aggressively into the swell of my back, hard and ready and the dual sensation makes me moan with hunger, greedy hunger.

Need has been building in me for four weeks, need to touch him, devour him, consume him. My breath comes out heavy as I twist in his hold to face him and reach for his belt. Unbuckling it in a hastily fashion, I slip onto my knees as a deep groan escapes Edward's lips and with a wicked grin, I pull his cock out and slide my fingers down it.

"I'm both," I whisper the reply to his question, flicking my tongue out over the metal on his tip before wrapping my lips around him with a moan and gripping the base firmly with my right hand.

"Oh, sweet Jesus," he shouts and then reaches for his shirt, pulling it so that the buttons fall off and cascade to the floor.

I look up at him, my eyes drooping with lust, my mouth sliding over his length and watch as he struggles for control. His hat flies across the room, his wife beater comes off and ink emerges; blues and blacks, greens and yellows, every inch of his upper body exposed to me, and I moan around him at the sight.

His hands slip into my hair and his eyes lock with mine as his legs shake.

"Yes, baby, that's a good girl," he moans, guiding me back and forward, thrusting gently into my mouth and I can't help whimpering.

The wetness that drips from my pussy is soaking me and I can feel myself throbbing. I want him inside me, but I'm enjoying watching him, enjoying the fact that I can make him fall apart like this. Still holding him with my right hand, I take my left hand and begin to stroke myself through the soaking wet fabric of my panties, needing friction so desperately.

"Bella…stop," Edward growls. He pulls back on my hair, which releases him from my mouth and I'm surprised and confused until I realize that he's tugging me upward, pushing me towards the bed. My hands move on instinct and I brace myself against the edge of the mattress, our panting lips only inches away from each other, getting closer and closer. I see his eyes have grown dark, a rich green that makes me pant even harder. His left hand still grips my hair, but the other has begun to wander, slipping down the zipper of my dress, letting it fall to the floor.

"Who do you belong to, baby?" He asks the question with a sense of fear and hope, fear that I won't want it fast and rough, and hope because he does. I know that he does by the look in his eyes, that needy gaze. It works though because it's what I want too. Ever since that first time, it's all I've wanted.

"Edward Cullen," I reply with a grin and he smashes his mouth to my mouth, pushing me into the bed with a growl. His hands unclasp my bra as mine pull off his pants and boxers and his mouth finds my neck. "Oh god! Yes!"

He's sucking my skin and its pain and pleasure all rolled into one, the pressure, and the soothing flick of his tongue make it so I can barely think. I clutch his back, my nails scraping across his skin as he sits me on the bed, pulls off my panties, and spreads my legs wide with his own. The cool air on my wet pussy makes me howl with need.

"Please!"

Wrapping my legs around him and locking my heels, I pull his cock towards my pussy and grasp his shoulders

"That's it, beg for it," he snarls, his mouth so close to my ear that I can feel his lips move. He reaches between us and slides his cock along my entrance, pressing the warm metal on the tip into my clit.

"Oh fuck," I moan and he continues his torture, slowly gliding himself against me.

"Tell me what you want," he entices me by slipping just the tip in and I let out a groan. "You know what I want…I want to ram my cock inside you, baby, I want to make you cum all over me."

"UGH!" I wail out an incoherent moan at the sound of his thoughts, his dirty thoughts vocalized for me.

"Fuck my pussy, Edward, fuck me until I can't move," I whimper and plead, my stomach coiling at the thought of him filling me.

"Good girl," he coos, and then bites down on my neck, fully thrusting himself into me and sending me into an instant orgasm.

"Edward!"

I spasm around his length as his head emerges from the crock of my neck and the world becomes hazy. He supports my back with one arm and drills into me, his cock hitting just the right place to make my toes curl.

"Is this what you fucking wanted? Huh?" Edward growls, pulling my hair as he thrusts deep and hard, and I nod in approval, unable to speak.

I watch as the sweat drips down his muscular shoulders and his ink ripples, causing my tongue to reach out and graze my lips. I want to taste him; I want to taste his sweat, and I want to taste myself on his skin…

"I want you to cum in my mouth," I pant and Edward's eyes widen as he continues to thrust in me, both shock and awe mixing on his face.

"God, that's the hottest thing I've ever fucking heard," he whimpers, his hand slipping between us to press onto my clit. "Cum again for me, cum all over my cock so you can clean it up with your tongue."

His words, his movements send me over the edge again and as I pulse around him, I feel his cock stiffen.

"Fuck, on the floor, Bella." He helps me onto my knees and as I ride the waves of my release, I suck him into my mouth, twirling my tongue around his tip.

"Swallow it all, every last drop, baby," he commands, thrusting into my mouth a few times, hitting the back of my throat until his sweet, tangy cum fills my mouth and I swallow everything he gives me, humming with pleasure. Apparently, he enjoys the fact that I'm a freak because he lifts me up off the floor and kisses me so hard that we fall onto the bed. Maybe he'll decide to keep me after all.


	17. One Step at a Time

**Chapter 16**

**One Step at a Time**

"The vision must be followed by the venture. It is not enough to stare up the steps - we must step up the stairs."~ Vance Havner

**EPOV**

I didn't mean for things to happen as they did. My plan had been to woo Bella, to show her how much I care for her, but when I saw her there by my bed, my intentions melted away. There was no way to stop myself and it wasn't slow and sweet either. Seeing her there, a few feet away from where I'd made her mine, made me think about that boy on the roof, the one who'd told her he loved her, he had wanted what was mine. It caused a possessive fire to burn inside me, one that couldn't be snuffed out until I proved to both her and myself that she belonged to me. It was predatory instinct, it was all I could do not to tattoo my name across her ass and force her to wear a t-shirt with 'Property of Edward Cullen' written on it. God, I'm such an asshole…

I'm lying on the bed with Bella curled into my side, her head resting on the crook of my shoulder, her arm wrapped around my waist. Within five minutes of us falling on the bed, she passed out from exhaustion. I don't blame her one bit, I would be asleep too if I wasn't so busy beating myself up. I can't help it though, I feel like a fool. Bella was innocent until she met me and I can't even give her simple romance like roses and candles. What the hell is wrong with me? I did nicer things with Tanya…no, wait; scratch that. Sex with Tanya was never nice; it was awkward. I was completely inexperienced, fumbling about like a moron, and she was either yelling about how I wasn't doing it right or yipping like a dog. I shake my head, pushing away the old memories. I don't want to think about Tanya, especially not with my girl wrapped up tightly in my arms.

Being careful not to wake her, I place a kiss on Bella's forehead, and she mumbles something incoherent in her sleep. I wonder if she's dreaming, and what it is she dreams about. It's just another thing to add to the list that's forming in my mind, the list of things I want to ask her. Maybe tomorrow…I notice the first bits of sun light trickling into my window and revise my thought; maybe today, she'll be willing to answer some of my questions. Bella's arm shifts in her sleep and for the fifth time in this both excruciating and amazing night, she grazes my cock with her warm hand. I bite my lip to stifle a groan as I move it away gently. I've been rock hard for hours, uncomfortably so, but I refuse to give in to my urges just yet, I want the next time with her to be as slow and sensual as she deserves. The next time we have sex, I want it to be because we care about each other. I want to be able to say I love her, the real her, and not just because of the connection we both feel, and I want to feel it in my heart that she loves me even if she can't say it. I know Bella's afraid of intimacy, the fact that she couldn't let me leave her last night shows she's grown extremely attached to me, at least physically. Now I just have to get her to open up emotionally, and I have a feeling that's going to be a whole lot harder.

Bella wakes up to breakfast in bed and before she's even done eating the scrambled eggs and sausage I made her, she's eyeing me with hunger, a completely different kind of hunger. If she keeps looking at me like that I'll never get to my list, it's now or never.

"Bella, I want to ask you some things," I say, stroking the back of her right hand with my thumb. Just like last night, she refuses to let go of me. She places her fork down on her tray, peering over at me.

"Okay," she replies, her voice quiet and full of worry, and I watch her eyes shift from lustful hunger to fear.

"That morning last month…why did you want to have sex with me?" As soon as I ask the question, I begin to panic, thinking she might ask me the same question. I get defensive. "I mean-, it's just-, why did you want me to be your first? By the way, you should have told me you were a virgin, Bella."

A flash of anger sparks in her brown eyes and I know I'm in for it now, shit…

"And when, pray tell, was I supposed to do that?" she shouts venomously. Her hand sits limp in mine, but she still won't let it go…well, that's a good sign at least. "You didn't even ask me my name, let alone tell me yours. Oh, wait, no, you did tell me your name, right in the middle of it all."

Ouch, note to self, be more careful when asking Bella questions because she has a wicked side.

"I-, shit, I-,"

"Just stop, Edward. What's done is done. Let it be," she says with a sigh, cutting off my gibberish. There's wetness building in the corners of her eyes and it makes my heart hurt.

I reach my free hand up to her face and place it softly on her cheek, ensuring that I'll be close enough to catch any tears that fall down her beautiful face.

"I'm so sorry for the way I've treated you," I declare, sincerity echoing through every word. A few tears start to drip and I swipe them away with my fingers. "If you give me time, I'll make it up to you, I promise. It doesn't have to be serious if you don't want it to be, but I would really like to start a relationship with you. Please let me have the opportunity to cherish you the way you deserve."

Confusion sweeps across her features. What in the world could be confusing her?

"A relationship?" she asks in surprise, hope and terror practically pouring off her.

"I-, well, yeah, I told you last night that I wanted to know everything about you. I thought you understood that I wanted more. Do you not want more with me, Bella?" My voice falls on the last sentence, my sorrow evident as my hand drops from her face.

We stare at each other for a few moments and silence builds between us. I'm about to resort to begging when she finally speaks.

"Yes." Her voice is a soft whisper, and I think that means she wants to try, but I want to clarify, I want to hear her say the words.

"Tell me exactly what you want, please. I don't want to guess wrong. I don't want to get my hopes up in case I'm hearing you wrong." I plead, both my hands locking around hers. "Please, Bella."

"I want more with you, Edward Cullen," she states, a smile appearing on her face and I'm so elated, so over come with joy that I don't even hesitate when I press my lips to hers for a gentle, but meaningful kiss.

When the kiss goes too long, her hands begin to wonder, and I force myself to pull away. She pouts and I realize I'm going to have to explain myself; she needs to agree to this hold as well. I can't make her feel unwanted.

"Bella, I want to try waiting a while before we have sex again," I tell her and her gaze drops to the comforter that's held up underneath her arms to cover her body.

"Did I do something wrong?" she whispers, clearly upset. "I thought you liked it…"

"Oh, no, baby, I did! I love everything about what we've done. You're amazing! Last night alone was, god, it was mind-blowing, Bella!" I admit exuberantly before coughing nervously.

"Why do you want to wait then?" She counters, gazing up at me again, her voice still sad.

"Well, you're so good that I kind of have a hard time stopping myself from touching you. Honestly, it's like I'm a horny teenager." I feel a tinge of a blush on my skin, which only adds more unease to my rattled nerves. "I meant what I said I want to get to know you. There's no way we can talk if we're always having sex. Well, we talk while we're having sex, but you know what I mean."

She nods her head, a sense of understanding coming over her, but there's still a tinge of sadness so I take her hand that's in mine and place it on the comforter over my cock. I hiss at the contact, even with the barrier between us it's intense, and Bella's eyes widen.

"I know you feel it, baby, I want you, and it's obvious. I just want us to form something bigger than this physical connection."

"I don't think that it can get much bigger, it's already huge and perfect," Bella snorts and I can't help laughing as I pull her hand away.

"Thanks for inflating my ego, baby, but get your mind out of the gutter. I'm trying to be sweet here and you're making it really hard for me," I say with a crocked smile. She snorts again, trying to hold back a laugh at my purposeful innuendo. "A week, that's all I ask. Hell, that's probably all I can handle. One week, a week to talk, to kiss, to make this relationship into something more substantial than sex, alright?"

"Okay," she agrees without a hint of sorrow or doubt, I feel confidant until she shifts the comforter under her arms, and I catch a glimpse of her nipple…fuck my life.

I don't know how long I can deny her, but it certainly isn't going to work if we stay in bed so I suggest that we take a walk through the park.

"All I have to wear is my costume," she says, rolling her eyes.

"So?" I ask. "You're my angel everyday."

Her face blushes and her eyes sparkle with lust as my cock throbs…yeah, definitely have to get out of the house.

"Maybe we could walk to your place. Jasper text me earlier to let me know he went there with Alice. I guess Rosalie and Emmett got a bit loud last night, Jasper told me Rosalie was screaming something about Mr. Brawny and Alice couldn't stop laughing long enough to get to sleep." Bella's mouth drops open and I chuckle. "Yeah, they've gone through like six rolls of Brawny paper towels too…doing what, I have no idea."

The sound of her unabashed giggles fill the room and I'm positive that it's the most glorious thing I've ever heard.

After a little bit of coaxing, I convince Bella to release my hand so that we can get dressed, and using every ounce of my self-control, we succeed in covering our bodies. Unfortunately, clothing doesn't reduce my hard on, not even a little bit. I realize that I'm probably going to be sporting constant wood for the next week. We both brush our teeth; Bella uses my toothbrush without complaint, which I think is adorable, and then we gather up our coats. I put Bella in both of them again, to keep her warm and cover her body from my prying eyes, and she complains, insisting that she doesn't need both and that I need to wear one.

"I don't need a coat, Bella. I'll be fine," I claim, I know my black tee will keep me perfectly comfortable. I rarely get cold. Last night on the roof wasn't even that bad. "I hate wearing coats. The only reason I brought one last night was incase you needed it and it's a good thing I did."

She glares at me and I let out a sigh, reaching for my leather jacket in the closet.

"Here, I'll carry it with me," I offer and her face softens a little.

"Fine," she concedes as a grin emerges. "But you have to wear my angel wings."

I laugh because I think she's joking, she's not…

"Turn around and I'll put them on you,"

I slip my free arm into the leather jacket, but she shakes her head. Apparently, I don't have a choice now.

"Seriously?" I ask, my eyes widening, and she actually releases my hand to make a twirling motion with her fingers. I slide my jacket the rest of the way on and then, allow her to put the wings on only because she hasn't realized that she's not touching me and it's not freaking her out…she's making progress. It makes me a little sad, but I know it's good for her and what's good for her is good for me too.

She giggles and I look in the mirror by the door as we leave, her hand now firmly back in mine. Yeah…it surprisingly doesn't look that bad, doesn't mean I want to wear it. My cock doesn't seem to care at all though; I'm still rock hard. Oh joy, oh bliss, nothing like a good case of blue balls while wearing angel wings to get the conversation wheel turning.

As we begin our walk through the park, I take the opportunity to approach lighter topics on my list.

"What's your favorite pastime?" I ask and I swear Bella blushes a fire engine red, she's such a fucking minx. I laugh and roll my eyes as my cock aches. At least, I know she enjoys how were doing things now. My mind begins to wonder and I have to shake my head. No! I can wait, and when we do have sex again it will be slow and romantic and we'll be in love…I hope. I revert from my thoughts and revise my question. "Besides that."

"Reading," she answers, and I recall her voice discussing Romeo and Juliet. Hm, that might come in handy. "Yours is probably painting, huh?"

"Oh my god, have you been stalking me, Ms. Swan? How rude!" I feign surprise and Bella smacks my shoulder.

"You're such a dumbass. You wouldn't even know my last name if Emmett hadn't gone through my medicine cabinet, how's that for rude," she replies and then, sticks her tongue out to blow a raspberry at me.

I stop dead in my tracks on the dirt path and turn to her with a wicked gleam in my eyes.

"Hey, I apologized for that and speaking of apologies, you just spit all over me. I think I deserve an apology," I admonish her.

Wrapping my free arm around her waist, I pull her to me, blowing my minty fresh breath across her face. Her eyes glaze over as she peers up at me and she appears completely stunned.

"Well…" I continue, inching my lips closer to hers, gazing hard into her eyes. I don't think she's breathing. "Breathe, Bella."

She takes a breath and murmurs her apology.

"Sorry,"

My lips find purchase on hers for the briefest moment, and when I lean away, I give her a smirk as Bella huffs out a breath of air in annoyance.

"It's not fair to dazzle me like that," she argues.

"It's not fair to put me in angel wings either," I counter.

"Touché." She nods, and turns to start walking, but not before she looks over to me and says, "I thought it would be funny, but to be honest, it makes you look fucking hot."

Bella winks and I feel my control crumble a little. God help me…she likes costumes.

We walk some more and the questions start flying.

"Alright, what's your favorite color, favorite food, favorite movie and why?" I ask.

She thinks for a moment and I expect her to say the typical answers that girls always say, pink, something sweet, and a romance, but of course, Bella is not the typical girl.

"Purple, all purples really, mostly indigo though. I think I like that one the most because when I was younger, I thought it sounded funny." Her smile falters slightly and I want to know why, but obviously, she's not ready to share anymore about that because she moves on quickly. "I love Italian, especially anything with cheese. The movie is a tough one. I haven't seen anything really for the past few years. If I have to pick, I'll go with Interview with the Vampire, I love scary movies and of course, movies based off books because books are, after all, my passion."

I can't help it, I grin a huge, beaming smile at her. She's so different…in a good way. She has more substance in her than Tanya had in her big toe.

"What?" She questions, looking at me like I'm crazy.

"Nothing," I reply with a shake of my head. "You're just amazing, Bella."

"Not really," Bella says with a blush. "I've always wanted to have a talent. The only thing I was ever good at was school and I can't really pursue college because of my work schedule, I need the money too much. You're so lucky to have such a raw talent and a family that supports you. Jazz and Em and I'm sure your parents too, would move heaven and earth to help you live to your full potential…It doesn't hurt that you're so talented either. You're a wonderful artist, Edward."

"Thanks." It's my turn to be embarrassed. I can feel the tips of my ears getting red. I've had people tell me that my whole life, hearing it from Bella though makes me actually believe it. Too bad I can't show her my studio, not yet anyway. All those paintings of her would probably freak her out.

All the talk about family makes me wonder about hers. I haven't overheard her say anything about siblings when I was at Toffee Coffee. Might as well ask, what could it hurt?

"What's your family like?"

The smile that has been gracing Bella's lips disappears and she starts to walk faster, now in a hurry to get home and stop the questions. I wonder why she's avoiding the topic, but I don't push, instead I just squeeze her hand and pick up the pace as well, filing that particular question away for later.

The silence continues for the rest of the walk. We reach Bella's apartment building. Jasper and Emmett weren't lying; the place is a dump. It's old, run down, and the neighborhood is definitely not safe. As we walk up the stairs, because the elevators broken, my heart takes over for my brain and starts contemplating how I could convince Bella to move in with me. I know it's too early for that, but seeing this place…I can't help the way I feel. Bella still isn't talking and when we reach the fourth floor, she opens the door to a hallway where half the lights don't work. It smells like cats, dust, and mold. I stop her in the middle of the hall. My heart doesn't want to listen to my brain anymore. Fortunately, I convince it to do something different instead of making me blurt out, 'You're moving in with me.'

With a quick movement, I pull Bella into my arms and hug her tightly, letting her bury her head in my chest. I try to tell her with my arms that I want her to feel safe and comfortable. She shakes against me and I kiss the top of her head.

"It's okay," I tell her, knowing that she's still hung up on the family question. I know that the apartment doesn't bother her as it does me, she's probably used to it. The thought makes my heart clench. What else is she used to? What has she had to deal with that has made her so afraid to love? She starts to sob and I stroke her hair. The curiosity rings inside of me, but I leave it buried. I'd endure anything for her; curiosity is such a small price to pay. If she's not ready, I'm not going to make her tell me. "Take all the time you need, baby. I'm not going anywhere."


	18. Fear

**Chapter 17**

**Fear**

"I think I'm afraid of being happy because whenever I get too happy something bad always happens."~ Charles M. Schulz

**BPOV**

Leave it to me to ruin a beautiful morning. Stupid, it's so stupid! With Edward's arms around me, holding me tight, it seems like the dumbest thing in the world to be crying about Charlie, to be crying about a life I lost that I'm never going to get back. That was 8 years ago, why is the pain still so damn fresh? I suck in another lungful of his cinnamon scent mixed with leather, trying to reign in my rampant emotions. It helps a little, but not as much as I was hoping it would. Am I always going to be like this? Am I always going to feel distanced from everyone except Edward and Alice? Will I ever be able to recover from that night so long ago?

I sniffle into his jacket, which probably costs more than my monthly rent. He's perfect; everything about Edward Cullen is perfect so why does he want me? I let out a strangled sob as the obvious answer comes to me. It's because he doesn't know of course. He knows nothing about Charlie. He knows nothing about the kind, loving man that raised me, or the awful way in which I became an orphan to the world, or how messed up I truly am over it all. I just want to be normal and this is my chance to pretend, pretend with all my heart that I am, and I'm ruining it. I don't want to have these dreadful feelings inside of me and I definitely don't want to share them. The last thing I want is another person to pity me, to carry this burden with me as Alice does. At least with Alice she has her own tragedy to contribute, to force upon me in return.

"Take all the time you need, baby. I'm not going anywhere," Edward says, his hot breath blowing across the top of my head.

Another croaked sob escapes me. His voice is full of understanding, but he'll never understand. I can't share that piece of me, not without that exchange of pain that I got with Alice, an eye for an eye. I know that I'll lose him because of it. He'll get tired of waiting, sick of comforting me without explanation; it's bound to happen. My tears fall in earnest and for the hundredth time, I wish I knew the bastard who killed Charlie and took away my life so that I could return the favor.

After a good 15 minutes, I finally force the tears to subside and gaze up at Edward. He smiles at me, such a warm smile, but I can see the concern in his eyes. The day will come when he won't want to wait anymore. Lucky for me, today is not that day.

"Better?" he asks, placing a hand on my cheek.

The heat from his bare skin touching mine burns up my body inside and out. I let out a soft moan, unable to help myself. The simple feel of Edward's skin is an aphrodisiac to me. Last lingering bits of unease dissipate and the spot between my thighs begins to ache. I can't hold back. With a sudden need, I launch myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck, and pressing my lips to his. He lets out a groan and unable or unwilling to fight, encircles his arms around me, one of his hands running along the swell of my back, the other cradling my ass.

"Edward…need you," I whimper, my voice barely audible, around his lips as he backs us up against the wall opposite my apartment door and my stomach coils with passion.

"God, Bella, yes…no, a week, we agreed," he pleads softly, his words conflicting as he releases my mouth and locks his vibrant green eyes with mine.

I can feel the restraint in his shoulders, the hard bulge of his cock pressing against me. He's a complete contradiction.

"Please," I beg, tugging on his hair and slipping my tongue into his mouth as he growls incoherently.

I don't care about the pact we made, I don't want to lose any of the time I have with him. Besides, the more we get to know each other, the more it will hurt when he realizes that I can't share everything. I won't force my pain on him like that. His shoulders hunch forward as his resolve crumbles and I free his lips in triumph, sliding my arms from his neck so that I can drag him into my apartment. With his hand gripping mine, we rush to open the door, opening it soundlessly thanks to the WD-40 Alice applied to it. I feel Edward's whole body stiffen at the same moment as my own. Oh. My. God. There, sitting on the kitchen table is Alice, sans clothes, and on the floor, kneeling in front of her, is Jasper, lapping at her center feverishly.

"Oh god, Jazzy," she pants, her eyes tightly shut. "So close!"

The air in my lungs disappears. I'm in shock and it appears that Edward is as well because neither one of us moves or says a word. My whole body feels like Jell-o, and despite the fact that Edward pretty much owns my pussy now and I wouldn't do anything to make Alice uncomfortable or ruin her relationship with Jasper; it's throbbing at the sight in front of me. She's my best friend. She's my best friend. She's my best friend. The chant does little to resolve the throbbing. Damn Edward has got me so turned on that I can't even think straight.

"Cum for me, darling, only for me," Jasper groans in a muffled voice and Alice's fingers latch onto his hair, pulling hard as she lets out a scream of pleasure.

"Yes!"

I watch as Alice's body trembles, her thighs clench, and she tumbles over the edge like it's been years since she's gotten off…Oh fuck…the thought brings me back to my senses. The throbbing between my thighs dies. Everything Alice has gone through, all that shit at the diner. It _has_ been years…Thinking quickly, I cover Edward's eyes as I yank my hand free from his and cover my own. A loud shriek of shock and embarrassment fills the room just as my hands slip in place.

"Close the damn door!" Jasper shouts and I scrunch my eyes, reaching with my free hand to turn both Edward and myself so that we're facing the door. I push it closed and slide the lock in place, opening my eyes. "Jesus Christ, Edward, you could have called!"

I've never heard Jasper raise his voice and honestly, it freaks me the fuck out. I can't blame him for being pissed though. I've been so busy in over protective city, depression village, or fuck town that I didn't even think about all the shit that Alice must have been going through in this new relationship. Sure, she's been all smiles since Jasper took her on their first date to the ballet, but with her Phoenix disposition, that doesn't mean shit. I haven't even bothered to ask her about how she's feeling. Fucking hell! I only have one real friend and I can't even manage to be there for her.

"Fuck, man, haven't you ever heard of a lock?" Edward screams back defensively and I grip his hand, squeezing it until he cries out in pain. "Ow!"

"Shut up!" I hiss, trying to hold back the tears in my eyes.

The sound of shuffling clothes alerts me that Alice is getting dressed, but underneath the rustling of fabric, I can hear her quiet sniffles.

"It's alright, darling. Shh…it's okay," Jasper says, trying to soothe away Alice's soft crying, confirming my suspicions.

"I'm so sorry, Ali. We forgot you guys were here…" My face burns with heat as tears pour down my cheeks, and Edward peers at me through the corner of his eye and squeezes my hand.

"What can I do, sweetheart? What do you need me to do?" Jasper murmurs.

"Is she dressed?" I ask through raspy sobs.

"Yeah,"

I turn around and see Alice standing by the counter with her face buried in her hands. Jasper's got his arms around her shaking, clothed, form. Batting away my tears, I let go of Edward, and walk over to Alice. Her head's resting on Jasper's chest and her eyes are closed tightly enough that it's creating lines on her cute pixie face. I reach forward and brush a hand through her short hair, leaning my face close to hers.

"Please, open your eyes, Ali," I whisper and she complies, the white area around her gray eyes bright red from her tears. "I swear to you, we forgot you were here. Edward, Jasper, and I would never do what they did to you; we would never hurt you…not ever."

Leaning forward, I place a kiss softly on her forehead. It's exactly what Ms. Penny used to do whenever we were sad. My heart clenches at the gesture and I give Alice a sad smile, which she returns.

"I miss her," Alice says, her voice barely audible.

"Me too," I reply. "Now go sit down with Jazz and I'll make you a cup of tea."

Jasper takes Alice over to the couch in the living room and I look up to see Edward's very confused and curious expression. My heart sinks into the pit of my stomach because I know I'm not ready to explain and I don't think I ever will be. With a shrug of his shoulders, he offers to help me make tea. Today is not that day, but some day…curiosity killed the cat and it will probably kill our relationship too.

None of us mentions the incident for the rest of the day. Instead, we play cards and when the sun starts to set, Jasper hesitantly leaves. He has school in the morning. Edward, after much kissing and promises of seeing him at Toffee Coffee early tomorrow morning, follows. It sucks watching him walk out the door, the need for physical contact is still there, but I force myself to think of Alice. She needs me too. After they're gone, I ask Alice if she wants to chill in my room tonight. It's not hard to figure out that she doesn't want to be alone and we need to talk anyway.

We sit on the bed in our pajamas with the lights on, looking all too much like the normal teenagers we never got to be. The thought brings forth images of slumber parties with my childhood friend Lauren and then, images of a much older Lauren, a Lauren I never got the chance to meet. In my mind, her hair is the same dark, honey color and her hazel eyes are bright as ever, but she has the body of a young woman. I let my mind wander to scenarios of whispering about boys and complaining when Charlie comes to check on us and I sigh.

"Do you ever wish you could have had a normal life?" I ask Alice, fumbling with the hem of my shirt.

"Sometimes," she answers, separating my hair into sections so she can braid it. "There's really no such thing though. Everyone has their secrets, their own issues. Take Edward for example, he seems perfect, but you have to admit those paintings are odd."

Huh?

"What…I thought you liked his paintings?"

"Damn him! I do," Alice huffs out a breath of air, seeming annoyed. I figure it's because she doesn't want to be talking about me, she's having issues that I should be helping her with and I'm turning the focus on Edward and I.

"Does Jasper have any issues?" I ask, changing the topic of discussion to her.

"No," she sighs, twisting my hair. "None that he's shared yet anyway,"

"Does it bug you…having him know about…stuff when he has nothing to relate with?" I stumble over the question as Alice reaches the bottom of my hair and secures the braid with a hair tie.

"I haven't even told him everything. I told him about the diner and Ms. Penny, but I couldn't tell him about the streets, Bells…there was already so much pity in his eyes that I couldn't take any more. He freaked out and wanted me to go straight to the police, but the fact that he's worried just makes me more worried. He feels so sorry for me and it makes me feel sorry for myself."

I choke back the lump in my throat and turn in the bed to face her. Alice has her face hung low and I can tell she feels ashamed.

"Ali," I say her name, taking her hands in mine. "There's no reason for you to feel that way. You didn't ask for any of that stuff to happen and when the going got tough, you didn't let it beat you up. You fought and survived. You're a fighter, Ali, a warrior against the ones who hurt you. That's nothing to be ashamed of."

Her head lifts up and I can see the gratitude in her eyes, she releases my hands and embraces me, squeezing tight.

"We're both warriors, Bells, you and me," Alice states the words with conviction and I hug her back. "I'm ready…I'm ready to fight again…I want to make the call."

Edward and I our struggling, six days and we're damn near ready to rip our clothes off and fuck in the middle of Toffee Coffee. I'm lucky enough to have a distraction in the form of Alice. We're still having trouble getting a hold of the correct authorities at Internal Affairs, but it's taking up a lot of our time. However, Edward…I think he's close to losing it. I look up from my workstation, and see him sitting at the table in the corner. Even from here, I can see his legs twitching and the tightness of his arm muscles as he clenches his fists. He's on his fourth cup of coffee and he's eyeing me with a stare that clearly says, 'mine!' I don't even have to look to my left to know that Jacob's getting a little too close for Edward's comfort. I can feel the warmth radiating off Jake's arm as I work the coffee grinder.

"Could you stop already?" I hiss, not even bothering to look into his face, I can bet he has a huge grin plastered there.

"It's so funny though," Jake laughs, leaning closer to my ear then necessary for me to hear him over the grinding of coffee beans. "Pissing him off is like my favorite pass time. Although, I don't know why he's so mad, you told him about Kate, right?"

"Yes, I told him about Kate, but Edward's not exactly the most rational person when it comes to me," My brain goes off to lala land when I realize I said the word 'come' and the wetness of my panties reaches the equivalent of Niagara falls. Son of a bitch! I've already soaked one pair of pants this week; I don't want to ruin another. The grinder stops and I force my brain back. "You're killing me, Jake. That possessive stare of his is going to melt me into a puddle of goo if you don't lay off. Please,"

"Fine," Jake says with a defeated sigh, leaning back with a pout. "But only because you said please."

He moves a foot or so away and Edward's clenched fists relax a little, the muscles in his tattoo covered arms soften. Unsurprisingly, it does little to turn me off, but at least its good enough that I'll be able to stop from ruining my pants…again. Why the hell does he have to be so hot when he's being territorial? Hell, he has no reason to feel that way anyway. I told him that on the roof Jake was just going over what he wanted to say to his friend Kate, the girl he's absolutely crazy about. Leah, one of his best friends, introduced him to her and she was supposed to be at the party that night. That seems to have made no difference to Edward's opinion of him though. Come on! Jake's a flirt, but he doesn't like me like that, he thinks of me like his sister.

Peering up at the clock, I note how close it is to two. Just five more minutes and I can leave with Edward. We're going somewhere public to spend some time together so we don't hump each other like bunnies. Just one more day, one more day, and this wretched week will be over. I think the only reason I'm still holding on is the fact that I realized what a shitty friend I've been being to Alice. I check the clock again, three minutes.

"Hey, Ali, is Jazz still taking you home?" I ask, looking over at the register. She's counting down her till for the day exuberantly. Well, I suppose that answers my question.

"Yep! Make sure to have Edward call when he's bringing you home." She gives me a wink while I shake my head at her.

"Lock the door," I whisper as I pass her on the way to hang up my apron and she blushes.

The clock strikes two and I punch my time card. Rushing to the corner table, I see Edward looking scared shitless. Irina's standing beside him, her long finger nails scraping the back of his chair, making my own territorial instincts kick in. Irina Denali has that look in her eye, that predatory gaze that means someone's going to get hurt if she doesn't get what she wants. When she sees me walking over, my gaze hard and angry, she gives me a smile before handing Edward a slip of paper.

"Tanya talks about you all the time, Eddie. How amazing you are in bed…you know my sister and me are very close. Sometimes we share," she says seductively, leaning forward, brushing her mouth against his ear, MY EAR. She sucks his ear lobe into her mouth and Edward just sits there, completely silent. I can feel my blood boiling, the urge to gouge her eyes out building in my skin as Irina hums with pleasure. I'm just milliseconds away from jumping her when she releases him and turns to walk a way. Before she's two steps away however, she turns to give us both a smirk. "Oh, Edward, I totally forgot…the boss sends his regards. You're going to want to call that number, or I can guarantee _both_ you and your little girlfriend will regret it."

I'm confused and suspicious and upset, I want to fucking hurt her. I feel the muscles in my hand clench, balling into a fist. I'm going to rip out every hair on her head. Suddenly, I feel Edward's arms wrap around me, his body dragging mine to the door and when we're out on the sidewalk, he releases me. My reaction is automatic; I'm so full of rage that I lash out on the person who happens to be standing closest to me, the person who's clearly kept something from me, something that has left his eyes wide as saucers and his face a mask of terror. He's afraid and so am I, afraid of what he's hiding and afraid that it may take him from me. Curiosity kills, but fear can ruin the greatest things in life. A loud smack sound fills the street as my hand makes contact with Edward's face.


	19. The Rising Dawn

**Chapter 18**

**The Rising Dawn**

"It is while you are patiently toiling at the little tasks of life that the meaning and shape of the great whole of life dawn on you."~ Phillips Brooks

**EPOV**

Jacob throws another smirk my way and I grit my teeth. He's seriously skating on thin ice. I'm about ready to jump over the counter and strangle him with his own ponytail if he doesn't back the fuck off. Beneath the table, I can actually feel my legs shaking in anticipation. I pick up the coffee cup in front of me, drain the remaining contents, and let out a deep breath.

"Woo sah," I whisper quietly to myself.

I have to trust Bella, and if Bella says he's not interested, I'm just going to have to believe her. He leans in close to her and my hands automatically clench into fists. I watch as she scrunches up her face in irritation and Jacob laughs, stepping away. She looks over at me, and then, up at the clock. It's almost time for her to go. My eyes follow Bella as she walks into the back room and I breathe a sigh of relief when Jacob goes into Rosalie's office. I can't help hoping that she's going to fire him, but he's probably just asking for time off. Bella said something about his sister having a baby and that he wanted to go home for Thanksgiving. Good riddance…I wonder what Bella is doing for Thanksgiving? I wave a quick goodbye to Alice and Jasper on their way out. Jasper told me that he was thinking about having Alice join us at our parents. Maybe I could convince her to join us too if she doesn't already have plans. I grab my empty coffee cup, preparing to throw it away, when life decides to hit me with a massive curve ball. Irina Denali waltzes through the door. My heart kicks into high gear, slamming into my chest with terror. You have to be fucking kidding me, of all the places in the world!

I sink back into my chair, wishing myself invisible. Perhaps she won't remember me; we only met that one time and that was two years ago. Irina's eyes glaze over the shop in a simple, every day manner, and lock on me in an instant. Son of a bitch…For a moment, she's surprised, and then, her eyes light up like it's Christmas morning. She's probably already thinking of the brownie points she'll get from the boss for hunting me down. All those years of anonymous art shows and having everything I own put in my mother's name, and they find me sitting in a coffee shop around the corner from my house. The odds have to be ridiculous.

Irina doesn't share much resemblance with her sister. Where as Tanya's hair is a strange blondish-red color and curly, Irina's is silver blonde and cropped straight at chin length. The family resemblance is only obvious in their too perfect model-like features that have been overly enhanced by plastic surgery. Of course, the boss needs them to look immaculate in order to bring in a profit. My stomach rolls, how could I have ever found that almost frightening look attractive? She walks in my direction, sauntering as if she's the hottest thing in the universe. Ugh, gag me with a fucking knife. When she reaches my table, she puts a hand on the back of my chair, making me cringe in disgust and fear.

"Well, aren't you in the wrong place at the wrong time…What are you doing in my coffee shop, Eddie baby?" Her voice is sickeningly sweet, like a doll. Tanya talks the same way. The boss is very specific about that; I wonder if he makes them take lessons or something.

" _Your_ coffee shop?" I lift an eyebrow. She can't possibly mean what I think she means.

"Well, if you want to be specific about it, _he_ owns the place, but it's in my name and I take care of all the business stuff." Her tongue darts out of her mouth and runs across her bottom lip as she gazes at me with hungry eyes. "So, what are you doing here?"

Oh, shit, if she finds out about Bella…

"Just here for a cup of coffee," I look down at my phone as if to check the time. "I really should be going though."

"Oh, so soon?" She coos. "Well, at least let me give you Tanya's number. I believe you two still have some unfinished business to attend to."

She fishes out a piece of paper and writes down a number, but as she's about to hand it to me, Bella appears from the back room. She looks at Irina and me, her eyes filling with tears of rage. I want to scream out for her to run except it's already too late. Irina recognizes that possessive glint in Bella's eyes and an evil look crosses her face.

"Tanya talks about you all the time, Eddie. How amazing you are in bed…you know my sister and me are very close. Sometimes we share," she says, leaning down so that her mouth brushes my ear.

She knows I won't say anything, not if I value my life. Irina sucks my ear lobe into her mouth and I force the bile in my throat to stay back by sitting completely still and silent as she hums with pleasure. Bella stares and I can't do anything, I can't even get her to look away. Her eyes become more sad and angry by the second. She looks as if she's about to snap when Irina finally pulls away. Before she takes off however, she decides to leave me with a parting remark.

"Oh, Edward, I totally forgot…the boss sends his regards. You're going to want to call that number, or I can guarantee _both_ you and your little girlfriend will regret it."

A lump forms in my throat at her words. She's going to tell him about Bella, which means I have to finish what I started or it's not just the end of me, but Bella as well…What have I done?

I can't breath and my body seems unable to move. It's not until I notice Bella's tense stance, her angry eyes locked on Irina that I snap out of it. If I don't get her out of here now things will be even worse than they already are. I latch my arms around Bella and rush her out the door, setting her on her feet when I reach the sidewalk. With one look at her face, it's obvious that she's confused, angry, and scared out of her wits. Perhaps, she can feel my fear; the terror that I swear is rolling off me in waves. I don't know what I'm going to do. How do I tell the woman I love that I'm indebted to the most powerful crime leader in all of Seattle and I possibly just signed not only my death warrant, but also hers?

I don't even see it coming. One moment, Bella's turning a bright shade of angry red; the next, her hand's colliding with my face. My head jerks to the side from the force and my cheek starts to sting. She's so strong for such a tiny thing. In all the years I've been dreaming and hallucinating about her, she's never smacked me before. Then again, she's never really had a reason. I shake my head, trying to clear it, and remind myself of the truth. Hallucinatory Bella and real Bella are not the same person. The fact that I found a girl who looks like my hallucination is nothing, but a coincidence. My hallucinations were brought on by the traumatic events with Tanya; at least that's what all the websites I went to seem to indicate. I've been researching like crazy for the past month, afraid that the hallucinations would come back, they haven't. Unfortunately, that means that this situation is real and things are about to get ugly.

Bella lets out a gasp and covers her mouth with a trembling hand. I can't quite tell if the glossy tears in her eyes are because she's afraid of my reaction or if she's shocked by the fact that she hit me, but either way, I won't let them fall. I won't let her feel bad for something I deserved. I pull her hand away from her face and tug her towards me, letting my lips sink into hers with a growl of defeat. She melts into me as a soft moan escapes her and my hands travel down her back to cradle her perky little ass. I know I'm not playing fair, I know that she's so desperate for sex that she'll follow me anywhere, but it's the only guaranteed way I can get her back to my art studio.

"Please, let me take you to my place," I beg against her lips, squeezing her body flush against mine. Holy shit, she feels amazing, maybe if I…No! I need to show her the art studio; I need to explain myself. She whimpers a 'yes' when she feels how hard I am, how ready I am for her, and my eyes roll back. Oh, fuck… "It's all for you, baby."

I nuzzle her soft face, kissing the corner of her mouth, her cheek, and her forehead while we both breathe heavily, her strawberry scent making my mouth water and my head spin.

"God…I'm so fucking high on you," The words barely have the opportunity to leave my lips when a catcall whistle sends both our heads snapping to the side.

It's Jacob. God, that kid is grating on my nerves. I shoot him the look of death and he rolls his eyes.

"Jeez, I'm not interested in cutting in," he says with exasperation. "You just happen to be blocking the damn door."

I look at the door. Whoops...I grab Bella's hand and we move out of the way so he can get pass.

"Carry on, my good man," he says with a bright grin, tipping an imaginary hat before walking down the sidewalk. I crack a small smile. Okay, so he's somewhat funny. He still annoys the hell out of me.

I feel Bella shivering and I wrap my arm around her so that she can curl into my side. Having her body so close to mine makes the walk to my apartment difficult, but torturously enjoyable. By the time we get there, her warm hand is already drifting under my shirt and I'm completely scatter brained.

Using what little hold on my mind that I still have, I take a quick glance down the halls to make sure no ones watching and open the door to my apartment. Nothing appears to have been touched, so they haven't found my residence yet, it won't take them long though. They know I'm in the area now and I'm sure Irina will be asking Rosalie…my thoughts dissolve as I feel Bella's hands wandering under my shirt, her lips pressing to my clothed chest. Wherever her fingers touch, I feel my skin tingle with the oddest sensation, it's almost as if the fear and worry I feel is escaping from my body at her caress. A sense of comfort envelops me, so intense that I can't help moaning in appreciation. She tilts her head up and I catch the glimmer of lust in her eyes along with the worry etched on her face. It's obvious that worry is not for her, but for me. The simple look is my undoing. I'll tell her, I'll tell her anything she needs or wants to know, but I have to do something first. I have to know that if she leaves it won't be because she thinks I have no feeling for her, or because she doesn't realize that I hunger for every part of her...I need to show her, tell her what only she does to me. If I'm not enough, if I'm not what she wants, then I'll give myself over to the boss and let him do what he pleases. Without her, I'm not going to fight…there would be nothing to fight for.

Leaning forward, I press my mouth softly to her ruby red lips. Her reaction is immediate and as always, full of need. She begins to tug up on my shirt, urgency in her grip, so I rest my hands on hers and gently loosen her hold. Only when her hands have relaxed and her breathing has steadied to a heavy, but normal pace do I bend down to lift her. I carefully maneuver down the hall, my lips never leaving hers as I place her on the bed. The sun has slipped to the other side of the sky so the room should be bathed in a soft gray. With her in it though, it still somehow seems bright.

"Edward," she whispers my name like a prayer, so delicate and innocent, sending my heart into a frenzy as I reach for the hem of her shirt.

With shaking hands, I remove it from her along with her bra, allowing her to dispose of my shirt when desperation temporarily clouds out my intent. I try to slow back down with tender kisses to her neck, surrounding myself in her chestnut hair that smells so strongly of ripe strawberries, but my cock is straining for her. Her arms enclose my neck and her digits swirl into my wild mane as I swipe my lips across her tender throat and grind my cock against her.

"Oh, Edward, please," she whimpers, pulling at my jeans, and I feel drunk on her, my whole being consumed with her every desire, hope, and dream. She could ask me for the stars and I would find a way to bring them to her.

I undo the button of my jeans and tug them off with my boxers, placing kisses on her shoulder, her collarbone, between her amazing tits, and around her aching nipples.

"Yes, oh god," Bella moans, clutching onto my hair with a death hold, sweat appearing on her skin.

I stroke one of her nipples with my tongue and her eyes roll back into her head as I grind into her just a little harder.

"Edward, more, I need-" She chokes out her request with a growl of desperation, her hands slipping from my hair to reach between us so that she can unbutton her khakis. She's struggles with the button, fumbling with it as her eyes water, and so I reach down to undo it myself before slipping the khakis off with her panties.

I freeze in place, they're drenched…like really drenched. I breathe in a lungful of the intoxicating aroma that fills the air and toss the flimsy fabric to the floor. The scent makes my cock actually hurt with pressure and combined with the aching of my heart, it leads to the edge of sanity. Leaning forward, I suck her neglected nipple into my mouth. I want to devour her as she does me, completely overwhelm her, and be the one thing she can't survive without. I stroke her clit with my cock, causing us both torture.

"Tell me; tell me what it is you need," I plead, emotion cutting up my words.

"I need…I need…"

"Tell me, Bella, Tell me, now!" I command, my hot breath on her nipple making her whimper her response.

"You, I need you…" There's a wave of emotion behind the phrase and a deep seeded fear in her eyes, making my chest burn.

"You have me, you have all of me, Bella…I love you," I whisper. Never in my life have I said those words to anyone except family…not even Tanya, but the declaration rolls of my tongue with impossible ease. It's as if those words were always meant to be for her.

I catch her reply with my mouth, penetrating her with my tongue as I thrust forward and bury myself inside of her, desperate to stay in the moment and to not hear her say that she can't love me, that it's too hard, and that she's not ready.

With a growl, I push faster, moans tumbling out the sides of our lips.

"Ed-, ward-…OH!" She cries out as I lift her leg and drill into her at just the right angle.

"Bell-a, yes-, oh fuck-, god, yes!" I growl around kisses, squeezing her ass with one hand and gripping her hair with the other while my stomach coils. "So close-, cum with me, love."

She pulls at my hair, yanking my mouth away from hers and she thrusts in time with me, her walls beginning to pulse when she pushes me further into her body.

"UGH! Cum, Edward, fucking cum for me," she screams, and my cock obeys, stiffening and spilling inside of her, the world spinning around me as I topple forward, my head falling into the crook of her neck.

"I love you," I pant, showering her with kisses. "I love you so damn much that it hurts."

After a minute or so of silence, I slip out of her and Bella's arms roam my back as we lay there, the room darkening even more due to the setting sun.

"I'm an orphan," she says with a quiet sadness, "My dad died saving my life, all because he loved me…"

The confession hits me hard and I lean back so that I can look into her eyes, she's crying now, drops of wetness dripping down her cheeks.

"I've kept everyone away because of it," she states, her tears falling harder. "Everyone except Alice and you…I'm never going to be able to stop needing you, Edward. I mean like crazy need you. I'm fucking nuts. I'm going to need you until death pries you from my grasp and I'm sure I'll go even more insane when that happens. Can you really handle that? Loving a crazy person?"

I wipe the tears from her face and get off the bed.

"Let me show you something." I say, pulling up my boxers and reaching for her hand. She grasps on and I pull her to her feet, slipping her into my shirt.

My heart feels like it's hanging by a string as I walk her over to the studio and open up the door. We step in and I suck in a breath, letting the overload of paintings sick in. They're everywhere, piles upon stacks of paintings of Bella, and there, sitting on the easel, is my most recent piece. She steps forward and reaches out her hand to touch it, but stops herself, afraid she may ruin it.

"It's alright, it's dry," I tell her, flipping on the light, she strokes the checkered red and white blanket on the still.

The image is of Bella and I having a picnic in the park. It's exactly what we did earlier this week. I painted it so that I would never forget it, our first official date.

"It's beautiful," she says with reverence.

"Yes, you are," I whisper, walking up behind her. Her eyes take in the rest of the paintings and I watch as they widen.

"Are all of these-"

"Of you?" I finish her question, picking up a specific piece I set aside for this moment. "Mostly."

I carry the canvas over and replace the one on the easel with it.

"This was my first one," I explain.

She stares at the painting, her hand reaching up to clasp her mouth. Her reaction is one I've been waiting for and expecting, but still, it sucks. I finally know that the painting is accurate, given the way her head shakes. I can't say I blame her; it's upsetting to me as well because until I saw the real Bella, I always assumed that I had just imagined the photos, maybe even imagined that last visit with Tanya. God, I wish I had…hell, I wish I had imagined all the visits with Tanya.

The still is of two photos side by side, the photos that I believe started everything and sparked my hallucinations in the first place. On one side is a painting of Bella, around 18. On the other side is a painting of a younger version of Bella, maybe 12, and standing next to her, on the front lawn of a small two story white house, is an older man in his 40s with dark brown hair and a mustache.

"It's Charlie," she cries, turning to me. "How did you paint Charlie?"

I have her sit down on the small couch I keep in my studio and I sit next to her, letting out a huge sigh.

"When I was 19, I met a girl named Tanya Denali," I start, running a hand nervously through my hair. "I met her at one of her father's charity events that my dad and mom went to every year. They dragged me along because they were worried about me and they thought that some time away from my studio would be good for me."

I let out a sharp humorless laugh, dropping my hands into my lap.

"Anyways, I-, well, I started dating her. She seemed okay and honestly, it was just nice to be noticed for once. Emmett was always the popular one, the one all the girls wanted, and so when Tanya showed interest, I jumped at the opportunity." I drop my head in shame, afraid of what Bella may think of me. "It turns out that she just wanted to use me..."

"Oh, god, please don't tell me details-"

"No, not that," I say, cutting her off, "Well, I mean, she was my first, but-"

"Okay, I really don't want to hear this. Can we move on, please," Bella interrupts me while fidgeting uncomfortably.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, I'm such an idiot. She sucked…at sex, I mean, oh god!" I smack my hand against my forehead. "Ugh! She wanted me to steal paintings!"

"Paintings?" Bella asks in shock.

"Yes, paintings, my mom works as a curator at the Seattle Museum of Art and Tanya conned me into thinking that this mob boss was going to kill her if I didn't break into the museum and steal these paintings that he wanted."

"Oh my god, Edward, you didn't? Please tell me you didn't…" I can tell by the look on her face that she already knows that I did and there's no way I could lie to her anyway.

"I used my mom's key and I was taking the last painting down when the night guard caught us…I got shot and Tanya ran. The guard chased after her and I was able to crawl into my mom's office to hide out there. She didn't come back for me; she just left me there to bleed to death!" I shout, squeezing my hands into fists in anger. Bella reaches over and places her hand over mine, causing me to relax a little.

"My mom found me the next morning and brought me to my dad, he used to be a doctor before he took over the school of medicine's dean position…he removed the bullet and sewed me up...I was lucky, lucky to have such forgiving parents and lucky to get out alive." I grip both her hands and look up at her face. "I went to see Tanya after I was healed…to find out how she could have just left me there, and her house was empty, the landlord gave me a forwarding address. When I got there, I thought it might have been a mistake; the address was a warehouse downtown. I was so driven by my anger that I waited, low and behold she showed up, arm in arm with the mob boss. I was young and stupid so I followed them inside and it was hell, Bella, straight up hell. The place was a maze of rooms with beds and women chained down with metal shackles...I tried to help them, I swear…"

Tears spring forth from my eyes without warning and I try to force them back.

"I found the boss and Tanya in a back room, they were shuffling through papers, and that's when he handed her those pictures," I pointed at the painting on the easel. "They were talking about some guy named James and how the dimwit couldn't even take care of one simple task and Irina walked up behind me. She outted me and I pretended that I wanted to be there, that I wanted to see Tanya and that's why I was there. The boss threatened me; he told me that they would kill me if I didn't finish my task. I agreed, but the moment I was alone, I packed up my things from my parent's house and my mom signed the lease for my apartment. I've been hiding ever since…everything that requires a title is under my mom's name, I don't even have any credit cards."

I take a deep breath, willing myself into telling her the rest before she has the opportunity to run.

"I've been painting you ever since, Bella, and dreaming about you…and even hallucinating you. I didn't even realize that you were real until recently, but for the past three years, you've kept me sane. So, yes, I can deal with loving a crazy person because I'm crazy too. I love you and now that Irina knows where I am, it's only a matter of time until they find me so if you want to be with me, now would be the time to say so. Without you, I don't even know if it will be worth it to fight."

She reaches up to place her hand on my cheek, a sad smile curving up her lips.

"It's always worth it to fight and I'm not going anywhere. I told you, I need you and…I love you, Edward," she whispers, a few tears slipping down her face. "No matter what you've done or how much it hurts to love you, I can't make it go away."

My heart jumps in my chest. I can't believe that she loves me; she actually loves me.

"I'll fight for us, Bella, and we'll all be fine when it's over, I promise you," I declare, looking hard into her eyes. "But there's something you have to promise me in return."

"Anything," she replies.

"You can't go to the police,"

Bella's face goes pale as a ghost.

"Why?" She asks, seeming frightened at the thought.

She should be frightened because the truth is fucking terrifying.

"They are the police, Bella…the boss is Police Chief Aro Volturi."


	20. Getting Together

**Chapter 19**

**Getting Together**

"We must, indeed, all hang together or, most assuredly, we shall all hang separately."~ Benjamin Franklin

**BPOV**

My heart is pounding away like a drum in my chest. I have so many things to say and ask, but I'm not quite sure where to start, or if I should. Would Alice be mad if I told him? I look into Edward's eyes and see the hope there, hope that I'll accept all the things I've just learned and that I won't think any less of him. Surprisingly, that's not even a problem. Yes, I'll be the first to admit that his relationship with Tanya wasn't the smartest decision he's ever made, but I can understand that he wanted to be accepted, that he wanted to feel loved. Isn't that what we all want? What's tearing me up is that I don't know how to tell him what's going on without actually explaining it all. The street lamps flip on, casting a very faint yellow/orange glow through the window that mixes with the bright overhead light and glints off one of the paintings in the oddest way. It's almost as if it sets off a light bulb in my head.

"I need your phone," I blurt out and Edward shakes his head adamantly in fear. "I'm not calling the police; I have to talk to Alice."

"Alice? Why-"

"Just trust me," I interrupt, pleading with my eyes. "Please,"

He drops my hands, nodding his head once, before he races out of the room to grab his phone. I glance at the paintings around me and shake off the chill that runs up my spine. I have to agree with Alice, the paintings are a little odd, but at the same time, I find the idea of Edward painting me to the point of obsession to be somewhat sweet. Perhaps that just makes me weird…

Edward comes back into the room and sits next to me. I give him a smile, trying to hide my own unease. I hope I'm right about this and that Alice wasn't talking about some different paintings last week. Although, a part of me is wishing that she was because the thought of her knowing this before me bothers me a little.

"How much does Alice know about this?" I gesture to the paintings around the room nonchalantly before I reach for the cell phone.

"Shit," he hisses. "I'm sorry; I was just trying to explain why I needed to see you, why I sent Emmett to-"

I stop his words with a hard kiss, trying to convey that I understand. I'm not necessarily happy about it, but that's beside the point because at this moment, the fact that she knows will help me. When I pull away with a smile, he smiles back, both of us a little dazed. I shake it off…not now.

"How much?" I ask again.

"Just enough, all I did was show her a few paintings of you and explain that I started painting you before I even met you…I told her that you were sort of the missing piece of my soul." His words slow on the last sentence and he flushes at the statement making my heart melt into a puddle of goo. I kiss him again, more forceful than before, but when I go to reach around his neck, I feel the phone in my hand, damn it. With an intense amount of effort, I pull away as we pant for air.

I look up Jasper's number quickly, so that I don't have the opportunity to get distracted any more, and press the call button. He picks up after two rings.

"You guys headed back?" He asks, knowing that it's Edward from the caller id.

"Hey, it's Bella, can I talk to Alice?" I clasp Edward's hand with mine and give it a squeeze.

"Um, sure," There are some muffled noises as the phone is passed and Edward lifts up my hand to place a soft kiss to my knuckles. My breath hitches when his lips touch my skin.

"Bells? Are you okay?" Alice's voice comes through the phone, full of concern, and I shake my head for the billionth time, so much for not getting distracted. Why does he always have to make it so damn hard to concentrate?

"I need to tell him, Ali." I don't bother explaining myself; I already know she'll understand what I'm talking about. "Not all of it right now, but at least some, it's important."

"I-, I don't know," she replies shakily.

"You remember when we were talking last week about the fact that everyone has their own issues?" I ask.

"Yeah…shit, he showed you the paintings, didn't he? I would have told you, but I just, I couldn't, you needed to hear it from him. I'm sor-"

"Ugh, please don't, Ali. I've had my fill of apologies tonight. It doesn't matter. What does matter is that the rabbit hole goes a lot deeper than you think. In fact, you and Edward should probably have a nice, long discussion about it at some point. The bottom line is that he needs to know."

"What? You're not making any sense, Bells. What are you talking about?"

I sneak a glance up at Edward's confused face and with a resounded sigh; I crumble. Apparently being secretive is just not my best quality.

"You're not the only person Aro's after."

There's a gasp from the phone and a groaned, 'fuck' from the seat next to me.

The shit hits the fan. Alice demands to know what's going on right away, desperate to have any extra information to take down Aro, but Edward doesn't want Jasper to know, and Alice isn't willing to keep him out of the loop. After a few kisses from me, Edward at least agrees to take me home and try to resolve the issue there. Personally, I think they're both hiding because their afraid, but then again, so am I. All I can think about on the short ride home is that I'm glad that Edward's more focused on the issue with Alice and how she fits into this rather than the issue of Aro having pictures of Charlie and me. To be quite honest, I don't want anyone to think about that, not even me. I don't want to consider the possibilities, the reasoning behind it, I can't. I'm sure as hell not going to bring it up in conversation either. That would be too dangerous.

Guilt nearly drove Edward over the edge all these years. I guarantee that's why he's been painting me; the guilt's been gnawing at him, it's been doing the same thing to me for eight years. The only thing is that unlike Edward my guilt hasn't been feeding my insanity. Up until I met Alice and Edward, it fed my loneliness, my inability to love, and my need for vengeance. Unfortunately, the vengeance is still strong inside of me, despite my recent accomplishments. Revenge…the simple thought of destroying the people responsible for Charlie's murder sends a rush of endorphins through my body. The face that I've always pictured in my mind is blurry, but if I think too hard about it, if I consider it for too long, I'm afraid I may just solve the mystery and I don't know what that would do. I may be capable of things I never considered before, things that would cost me everything.

When we arrive at the house, Alice is sitting at the table and I'm happy to see she's fully clothed this time, but not so happy about the worried expression etched into her features.

"Jasper went to go get pizza," she says, looking up at the two of us as we walk through the door. I take my jacket off and her eyes dart to us and then to the empty chairs at the table, a silent request. "He'll be back in about 20 minutes so you might as well hurry up and tell me what's going on."

It feels almost like an interrogation as we take our seats, the overhead kitchen light glaring off the cheap wooden table. I wish they would get on with it already. The quicker they do this, the quicker we'll be able to figure out what to do next and the less time I'll have to make any stupid decisions.

"You're just going to tell him later," Edward argues and I roll my eyes. No shit, Sherlock.

"He's your brother; he's going to find out eventually," Alice counters her smoky eyes swirling angrily. Alice has never been the patient type.

"He won't if I don't tell you. I can't have him knowing about this. Emmett doesn't even know for Christ sake. They would never look at me the same way again."

"They could help you," she says, her voice softening a little. "We could help each other."

"I don't need any help," he replies through gritted teeth.

"Ha," Alice scoffs. "Like you didn't need help with Bella? That's another thing, are you willing to put her at risk over this macho bullshit? Because they'll go after her too, if they want you, they'll want her."

"She's not at risk! I would never let them touch her!" He snarls, slamming his fist onto the table and the room breaks out into alternating shouts.

"They touch anyone they want, Edward, they're the fucking police! You think Aro doesn't know what he's doing; well, I know he does. I've seen what his orders can do and I've watched people die because of him!"

I flinch at the mention of death and hold back any thoughts that try to work their way forward. My blood boils underneath my skin, hot like lava. I wonder how long I can hold it, how long I can lie to myself...I force my attention back on the argument, letting the thought melt away.

"He doesn't know shit. I've been hiding right under his nose for years!" He and I know that's not possible anymore, but Edward's too angry and too afraid to back down. I consider cutting in, but they're both too stubborn to let this go, it's best for them to get it all out.

"You can't hide forever! You can't keep quiet forever and just hope it goes away! What kind of pussy move is that, huh? At least I've got enough balls to try and contact the Feds or Internal Affairs to do something about this shit." I cringe at the stab to Edward's ego. It's actually a pretty good tactic on Alice's part; still, it's not very nice.

"And what good has that fucking done? You think I didn't try to get through to those paper pushers in DC?" I look at him with a confused stare and he just shakes his head, explaining so that only I can understand. "I kept certain things out of the equation."

"Oh, so you lied," Alice throws her hands up. "Of course it didn't work then, like I said, pussy move!"

"I didn't fucking lie, I just didn't tell them stuff that would incriminate me! All those douche bags did was tell me they were working on an investigation and they'd contact me if necessary. That's it! Besides, who gives a fuck if it was a pussy move; it's kept me alive, hasn't it? I don't have that option anymore anyway! Does that make you fucking happy? Your stupid boss is turning me in for fucking brownie points!"

Alice's face pales and her angry expression falls.

"Irina?" She questions, looking over at me. I give her a nod.

"We found out today," I tell her, a new issue coming to the front of my mind. Completely unaware, I whisper my own conclusion aloud. "We can't go back."

Memories flip through my mind of all my time at Toffee Coffee, the few laughs I had with Jake, the times Rosalie was especially nice.

Alice sinks back into her chair with a murmur.

"We can't stay here."

We look slowly around at the tiny little apartment that we've shared for almost the past month and a half, the apartment that I've had since I left Ms. Penny's, the one she co-signed with me. I let out a sigh.

"We'll find some place new and better jobs too," I state, reaching my hand across the table to clutch hers. I watch Edward's face drop and his eyes become sad. I don't really understand why. Surely, he couldn't expect that I could come and live with him. Alice needs protection as much as he does, if not more.

"Okay, I'll tell you," Edward concedes. "But only on one condition."

"I'm telling Jasper," Alice says with an eye roll just as the door lock clicks and he steps into the room with a steaming hot pizza. Edward shrugs.

"Whatever, I'll tell you both, but I want to pay for the apartment,"

"No way," I argue. "I am not letting you pay for us to have a place to live, Edward. We'll find jobs; we'll take care of it somehow."

"Will someone please explain what the hell is-?" Jasper starts, but Edward cuts him off.

"I'm not paying for a place for you two to live. I'm paying to live with you." My mouth drops open in surprise. "If you want to live with Alice and I want to live with you, it only makes sense. Where you go, I go."

My lips turn up in a smile and dropping Alice's hand, I rush to wrap my arms around him and smack my lips to his.

"Now hold on just a damn minute." Jasper shouts, dropping the pizza box on the table with a thump. "Is anyone going to ask me how I feel about this?"

I release Edward to look at Jasper, he has massive bags under his eyes, and he seems more than a tad bit on edge. It doesn't take me long to figure out why.

"Emmett and Rosalie still humping like bunnies?" I ask.

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" He snaps.

I look at Alice and Edward, who both nod. Edward does so reluctantly, but Alice does so with an eager grin.

"You want to make our threesome a foursome?" I question with a smirk, knowing this will actually solve a problem. Having the apartment under Jasper's name will be safer.

I watch as Jasper ponders his answer and then reaches for the pizza box. He throws it open and pulls out a cheesy slice.

"Count me in," he replies, sitting in the seat next to Alice. He gives her a peck on the lips and takes a bite out of his pizza.

"Alright, deal," Alice agrees, reaching for her own slice and peering at Edward. "Now spill."

The table goes silent as Edward talks and the rest of us eat. Jasper is of course particularly intrigued although he does manage to keep his mouth shut, even when Edward explains their parents' roles in everything. His fists are clenched the entire time though and I notice that his knuckles get particularly white at that point. I can feel the tension in the room building as Edward continues to talk and realization hits me. My legs begin to shake with fear of him bringing up the pictures and the paintings. It seems stupid, but I didn't even think about the fact that he would tell this part again. I've been too worried about getting all this done, of keeping my mind off the issue that I'm faced head on with it.

"Aro handed Tanya these pictures of…" Edward pauses, the shock evident on his face as he sees what I've been refusing to see. I want to run away from the truth, to bolt out of the room, but he looks right at me, his eyes filling with soft tears. "You…you and-, and Charlie…Oh my god, Bella."

I place my hands on my ears and shut my eyes as I begin to sing like a crazy person. I can't do this! The tears trickle out and then, pour down my face like rain while the face in my mind, the murderer, becomes clear, the black hair and frightening grin of Aro Volturi, courtesy of the picture that Jasper found for us to protect Alice, fills the blurry void. The parts in my mind slip together like a lock sliding open. The man with the midnight eyes and blond ponytail that reeked of booze, the alcoholic stench that soaked the man Alice talked of from her time at the Diner, and the name that Aro spoke and Edward overhead…James. Aro sent him, he sent him to do a job he didn't accomplish, a job that involved Charlie and me, and now he's dead! He's dead and I'll never get him back!

My body shakes with rage and I stand up from my chair stomping my feet as I scream. I scream as loud and hard as I can manage, my voice eventually going horse, my body giving out as hands reach for me. I sense the hands and hear the voices, but all I can truly feel is the fiery knots in my stomach, forming together in huge chunks of anger. My hands ball into fists against the side of my head, pulling at my hair as the fire rages inside of me. It heats up my blood, my heart, my lungs, burning the very breath out of me until I can't even breathe. I try to suck in air, but each breath is harder than the last and finally it stops working all together. The fire engulfs me and everything goes black.

Water, cold and wet, hits my face and I groan as the world comes back, fighting the aching of my head as my eyes open. Jasper, Alice, and Edward are all kneeling beside me clearly concerned and bewildered. I feel embarrassed and ashamed, my face blushing with the intensity of their worried gaze. I practically just threw a tantrum like a two year old. Edward picks me up without a word and carries me into the bedroom, pulling back the covers and placing me gently in the bed. I gesture for him to climb in, unable to speak because my throat hurts so badly, and he gives me a soft smile before pulling his shirt and pants off. He's just crawled into bed and wrapped his arms around me when a knock echoes through the apartment and Alice rushes into the bedroom with her finger over her lips and an absolute terrified expression on her pixie face.

"Oh, sorry about that, the chain always sticks. How may I help you, officer?" Jasper's voice sounds clear even with the bedroom door closed. It reminds me how thin the walls really are, how squeaky my old bed is, and how creaky the floorboards are. My blood races and my heartbeat accelerates as the officer answers.

"I got a call that someone heard a woman screaming. Would you mind if I came in and looked around?"

"A woman screaming?" Jasper asks, pausing for a moment before continuing with a chagrined tone to his voice. "Oh my god…ugh, listen, this is really embarrassing, but that was me. I was throwing away my pizza box and I saw a mouse. Those things scare the shit out me."

The officer attempts to hold back a laugh, but snorts at the confession.

"Just as well," he replies. "I should take a look anyway."

"Um, yeah, of course,"

I hear the front door swing open and Alice, Edward and I all look at each other with equal amounts of panic. Edward points to the small closet that we all might be able to squeeze into if not for the noise we'd make getting there. I shake my head.

"So it's just you here?" the officer asks, his footsteps sounding as he walks into the apartment.

"Most of the time, occasionally my girlfriend comes over when I don't have class to go to," Jasper responds.

"Oh, you go to UW? I went there myself, dropped out though. Law Enforcement was my calling, helping people and what not." There's a gruff, manly tone to his voice as if he's so proud of the accomplishment despite the fact that this city's crime rate is ridiculously high and no wonder, it's probably Aro causing it all. My insides burn with a newfound vigor and I make to move, but Edward squeezes me around the waist, holding me in place. The bed squeaks.

"Did you hear something?" The officer's voice gets louder as he walks closer to the door. We watch as the door handle jiggles, but just before he has the chance to open it Jasper breaks out into a loud, girl-like, scream.

Edward, Alice, and I bolt for the closet, using the sound to mask our movements as we squeeze into the tiny closet, pushing and shoving.

"Jesus Christ, Kid! Why are you on the coffee table? What the hell is wrong with you?" The cop yells.

"The mouse, sir, it was the mouse again. It's poking out from under the couch," Jasper whimpers, his voice shaking, and I notice Edward covering his mouth with his hand, biting into his palm to stop himself from laughing. Alice and I jab him with our elbows, making it clear that's it not the time or place.

"Kid, that's a sock!" he shouts, his feet stomping away from the room. "Screw this; I've got better shit to do."

As if on cue of the officer's statement, a loud boom rumbles the floor, followed by a moment of silence. The officer's radio goes off.

"Code 619. All available units report to the corner of Union and Central, repeat, I need all available units to report to the corner of Union and Central. We have a code 619."

Edward's body goes limp, as does mine and Alice's. The closet is completely silent and I swear I can hear our hearts beating, pounding against are rib cages like jack hammers. Even in the dark, I can feel and see the fear pouring out in the sweat that drips from our faces. That's the corner where Toffee Coffee is, where Edward's apartment is.

"That's what I'm talking about!" The cop cheers, his feet pounding for the door.

"Wait, what the hell's a 619?" Jasper asks, calling after him.

"Look out the window and see for yourself, kid. That's if you can get pass the scary mouse." The officer lets out a chuckle and the door slams.

All three of us fumble out of the closet and race out into the living room, headed for the window where Jasper stands frozen with his mouth agape. He registers our presence in time to latch onto Edward and pull him away.

"You don't want to see this, man, trust me," Jasper says, trying to stop him, but Edward doesn't listen. Instead, he pushes pass him, letting his eyes meet the same spot Alice's and mine our locked on.

I encircle my arms around his waist and squeeze him tight as he gazes out the window, watching the red-hot flames consume his apartment building, all the things he owns including his gorgeous paintings inside. It's so much more than that though, we all know the real loss. There isn't a dry eye in the room as we let the devastation sink in and I have no doubt we're all thinking the same thing. We're wondering how many innocent souls Aro just killed to try to get the one wrapped in my arms and if the law is really enough to stop the devil himself.


	21. The Real World

**Chapter 20**

**The Real World**

"Love is the difficult realization that something other than oneself is real."~ Iris Murdoch

**EPOV**

I don't know what to think, what to say. My apartment's gone along with everything inside it, but the real tragedy is the loss of all those people, those innocent people who never did anything to deserve death. At least I would have deserved to burn for stealing the artwork, for involving my parents in my crime, and living a lie. Alice is right; I'm a pussy. I've been keeping myself safe, but at what cost? I'm having a hard time moving, tearing my eyes away from the window. The only thing I can feel, other than the aching in my heart, is Bella's soft arms encircling my waist, her warm body embracing mine, bringing forth in my thoughts an even worse outcome. Images of my Bella, charred and lifeless, flash behind my eyes and I squeeze her form, forcing the frightening and grotesque stills away. We could have been there, and while I might have belonged there, she didn't. I will protect her now no matter what it does to me because she is the most important person in the world, more important than me and the years I might spend in prison or the gruesome death I may face at the hands of Aro. Even if it breaks my promise, even if she hates me for it, I will keep her safe. She is my life now.

* * *

Beads of sweat drip down my body, sliding across my bare chest as I maneuver the large wooden dresser off the ground. My arm muscles are straining with the weight of it, burning more with every second that passes. Leave it to Bella to have a dresser made of real, heavy as shit, wood.

"Fuck! We'll have to turn it," I grunt when I reach the doorframe and realize it won't fit.

Jaspers groans in disapproval, sweat pouring of his face as we twist the dresser 90 degrees in the air.

Why she couldn't leave this is beyond me. To be quite honest, it's a real POS, all scratched up and destroyed from the years of use it got prior to Bella purchasing it at Good Will. I told her I would buy her a new dresser, a solid fucking gold one if that's what she wanted, but she insisted on having this one.

Once the monstrosity is on its side, we're able to slip through the door with about an inch of clearance on each side. We set it down against the newly painted wall as quickly as we can, but even with the weight taken away, my arm muscles smolder in the aftermath. Perhaps, this is my punishment or part of it anyway, for what my stupid choices caused last week. I'll never accomplish enough retribution to make up for the five lives lost that night. Maybe though, just maybe the pain counts towards my penance for a few of the 15 injured. In the slight chance that it does, I'd be happy to work my muscles until they scream for mercy.

I flex my arms, gritting my teeth at the pain. It eases the knot in my stomach the littlest bit. We've only got a few things left in the moving van- the new couches, and the new king size mattress and bed frame for Bella and I. I'm ready to get it done, but Jasper's bent forward with his hands on his knees, panting for air.

"I'm done," he says, strained from the furniture and boxes we've been carrying for the past hour. "We'll wait for Emmett to do the rest; he should be here soon with our van."

I don't want to wait though so I head out into the living room, looking for something heavy to move since I can't carry up anything by myself, there's nothing and it makes me want to scream. I want to get this festering knot out of my gut now. Is this the feeling Bella gets when people touch her, this nauseated, dizzy, aching to the point that you wish you were numb sensation? If so, I understand her reluctance at being touched by anyone except Alice and me. Only God knows why I don't give her the same feeling after what I've done. She's tried to tell me that it's not my fault, that the police said it was some sort of gas issue, but we all know that's a bunch of shit. We can't trust the police to tell us the truth, no more than we can trust anyone outside our tightly knit group of friends. The thought brings to mind the night five days go when we had to explain to Emmett and Rosalie why Jasper was moving out and why Alice and Bella wouldn't be coming back to work.

_We were all sitting around the living room of Jasper and Emmett's apartment; my hands clenched around Bella's trembling fingers. She hates talking about it, about anything that reminds her of Charlie's death, so I tried to soothe her by stroking her hair, but I was just as uncomfortable as she was when Jasper reached her part of the story and Bella started to cry silent tears. The danger felt more real in that moment, more substantial. It was a reminder that I'm fighting for more than my own pitiful life and the fear that coursed through my veins at the thought of losing her was so thick, sticking to me like maple syrup and burning like acid. I couldn't hold her close enough, tight enough, to make it go away._

_When Jasper finished, I was caught off guard by a reaction I definitely hadn't expected. Rosalie began to cry and not tiny tears either; she was bawling her eyes out. Bella and Alice ran to her side and even though it caused her to cringe in pain, Bella briefly embraced the sobbing mess that was Rosalie Hale. Once she couldn't fight the pain anymore, she curled back up next to me on the couch, leaving the comforting to Alice._

" _It's my fault," Rosalie finally stated when the tears had run dry. She peered over at me and I was taken back by the remorse in her bright blue eyes. "I told Irina where you lived. I gave them the information they needed. I won't try to make up excuses; Irina said you were trouble and I was worried about Bella, about what you might do to her. I know you'll probably never forgive me, but I am sorry."_

" _There's nothing to forgive, Rosalie." The words fell out without a thought and I realized that I meant them._

_I truly wasn't upset with her even though I knew by her sharp gaze that she would do it again if she felt Bella was threatened by me. My eyes flickered to Bella as I gave her hand a squeeze before locking on Rosalie again. Her lips turned up in a smile and the look between us said it all. We would both give anything or do anything to protect the ones we love. Of course Bella would find the only people in the world who would do exactly what she didn't want them to._

" _Call me Rose, Edward." It was a simple request, but I knew what it meant. We had finally found common ground to stand on; we were equals._

_Emmett took the news about Mom and Dad well, he punched a hole in the wall... at least it was better than my face. After Rose's melt down and Emmett's temper tantrum, we told them about our plan to move in together, hoping there would be safety in numbers._

" _Okay, when do we move?" Emmett asked immediately, his gaze falling on Rose and then the rest of us._

" _Um, well, it's actually just us four," I said gesturing to Alice, Jasper, Bella, and myself._

_Emmett glared at me, cracking his knuckles, and I felt the blood in my veins run cold._

" _But yeah, you guys could move in next door or something; that would be awesome. In fact, it would definitely be much safer," I corrected myself hastily, tripping over the words. Everyone laughed; the idea that I was scared of Emmett beating me to a bloody pulp was hilarious even to me. I guess it made us all feel a little better to have one of us be scared of something normal when we have something so much more terrifying to be frightened of._

"Hey, are you okay?" Bella asks, placing her hand on my shoulder and bringing me back to the present. The knots in my stomach ease off at her touch and I feel almost right again. I turn around to face her, placing my hands on her hips and bringing her close.

"Yeah," I reply, taking a full, deep breath of her strawberry scent before leaning forward to kiss her softly.

The taste of her sweet lips soothes me completely, erasing the sorrow in me that has seeped in since the fire, if only for a short time. She lets out a soft moan and stretches her arms around my neck to bury her fingers in my hair. I know that once she's out of my sight again it will all come pouring back - the guilt, the fear, the agony, but for now, I feel amazing. As long as I have Bella, everything is all right. Her love gives me strength, her gentle caresses and kind words give me something to fight for, filling me with hope. We'll make it all work, somehow.

"Ah, so I take it by the make out action that you didn't tell him Emmett's here with the truck," Jasper announces in a panted, wheezing breath, causing me to tear my lips away from Bella's as she blushes fiercely, making her look all the more kissable.

Jasper's standing at the door with our king size mattress, sweat dripping off his face as if he just stepped out of a shower.

"Um, Emmett's here with the new truck and Jasper told me to come get you so that you could help him bring up the mattress," she says and then, nervously bites on her lip.

I give her a big grin so that she knows I'm not mad.

"Oh, I should go help him then." I step away from her and walk over to slide the mattress the rest of the way in. I glance down at my imaginary watch. "Damn, I'm fast!"

I can hear Bella laughing behind me and it makes me happy even though Jasper's obviously not amused, considering he's still trying to breath.

"Told you that you could make it, Bro," Emmett hollers, clapping Jasper on the back on his way in with two dollies full of boxes with Jasper's name written on them speckled with tiny dots of water. "Better get a move on, Eddie, rain's starting to come in."

"Seriously, Emily," I seethe, turning towards him with my fists clenched. "For the billionth time, it's EDWARD! E-D-W-A-R-D, Edward!"

Emmett beams a grin and points a thumb at me while looking at Bella.

"Aw! Eddie finally learned how to spell!"

Bella bursts out laughing and suddenly, I don't care about Emmett calling me Eddie anymore. He's helping me, he's protecting me, and he's making my girl laugh. What more could you ask from a brother or your best friend?

"Come on, Emanita." I lock eyes with Emmett and then approach Jasper, getting right up in his face and talking to him in baby talk. "Jazzy Jizz Pants is tired. We need to hurry up so he can get some juice and take a nappy nap. Isn't that right, schnookums?"

He makes to punch me except I move too fast and before I know it, we're fighting down the halls, pushing and shoving each other like old times. The knot creeps back in with the distance from Bella, but this is worth fighting for too. I work past the pain, the guilt, the fear. I'm not going to let it bring me down, not today.

The trucks are all unloaded, the furniture is in place and the heavy lifting is finished, but the soreness in my arms has yet to dissipate. Thankfully, the knots are kept at bay by my proximity to Bella, even though I'm standing at the sliding glass door across the room, I can feel her presence as I used to feel the hallucinations that seem so long ago. She's unpacking with everyone else, even Rosalie and Emmett are next door, unpacking all their things. Unlike them, I find myself looking out the sliding glass door that leads onto the patio. We purposely found a place in the middle of an upscale neighborhood, far away from Toffee Coffee and my old apartment complex, but it feels like I could still look out and see the rubble, the flames. All that's out there is rain though, rain and storm clouds. I hear Bella giggle and look over to see her smiling at her friend. With Emmett and Rose in the know, I thought that would be the extent of our inner circle, but I'm kind of happy that I was wrong and that we told him. I can't say I felt the same way when he showed up at Bella's apartment four days ago though.

_Bella was just finishing up in the shower when I heard a knock at the door. I'd been staying with her the last couple of days, helping her pack and keeping her safe. I knew it wasn't Alice at the door; Jasper just called and said that they were stuck in traffic and wouldn't be back for a while longer with dinner so I took every precaution, I chain bolted the door and grabbed a knife from the drawer._

" _Who is it?" I asked through the door. A shouting voice answered._

" _Where is she? I swear to god if you hurt her, I will fucking end you." Ugh…Jake_

_I thought about not responding at all, but that would be rude, especially since Bella was out of the bathroom now, dressed in her skimpy towel and staring at me. My pants tightened at the sight. God, she never fails to get me rock hard._

" _Why the hell do you have a knife?" Bella asked._

" _A knife?" Jake shouted, stupid paper-thin walls. "Let me in there right now or I'm calling the police."_

_I heard the beeping of a cell phone as the first number was put in._

" _Shit!" I hissed, placing the knife on the counter and throwing open the door._

_There he stood Jacob Black, hair disheveled and eyes red like he hadn't slept in days. He rushed passed me, shoving me slightly as he crashed into Bella, dropping the phone as she cringed at the contact. His arms wrapped around her and I felt the rage bubble up inside of me as Bella struggled to hold her towel in place while keeping the sickness inside of her at bay._

" _I've been so fucking worried about you!" He cried. "You and Alice didn't show up for work the past few days and when Rosalie didn't show up today and Irina wouldn't tell me anything, I just had this terrible feeling that something was wrong."_

_I watched as the towel began to slip and I felt myself about to pounce when another person walked through the open door, shutting it behind her._

" _Jesus, Jake. The girl's about to lose her towel," said the girl with long, pale blonde hair, the color of corn silk, and aqua colored eyes._

" _Oh, whoops, sorry, Bells," Jake scrambled to apologize, turning to me. "Sorry, man."_

_The look on my face must have been enough for him to know that I didn't accept his apology because he picked up his phone and stepped away from Bella fast, coming to stand by the blonde girl._

" _Um, I'm going to go put on clothes," Bella muttered, escaping the room as her face lit up a bright red._

_None of us moved or spoke while she was gone. Instead, I stared Jake down as both he and the girl he was with looked at anything, but me. Only when Bella walked into the room and rushed straight to my side did I felt a little bit better._

" _So excuse me, but who are you?" Bella asked the girl._

" _Oh, sorry, I'm Kate, a friend of Jake's. We were on our way to meet up with some people and he seemed so worried about you that I thought it might help if we stopped by." Jake tried not to show the agony on his face at the word 'friend', but it didn't fool me. He stole a glance over at the blonde girl and I saw something else that I had never seen in his eyes before, longing. My anger disintegrated as I noticed the way he looked at her, the same way I look at Bella. Kate peeked at her watch. "Shit, we should go; we're meeting Leah and the others at the movies in 20 minutes."_

_Jake opened the door to leave, and gave me a nod- another apology. I nodded back- an acceptance._

" _I'm really glad that you're okay, Bells." He gave her a sincere smile and stepped out into the hall. Kate followed, but before she closed the door, she said something that sounded surprisingly truthful._

" _I am too."_

"Romeo and Juliet, really, Bells?" Jake scoffs at the book as he pulls it out of the box and tosses it to her. "You don't have one decent book in here. You don't even have Harry Potter."

Bella rolls her eyes at him.

"You wouldn't know decent if it was staring you in the face, Jake, and who the hell is Harry Potter?" She places Romeo and Juliet on the new bookshelf I bought her, oblivious to the shocking question she's just asked. I have to admit even I'm a little taken back that she clearly has no idea about the wizarding world of J.K. Rowling. Emmett's been torturing me with the movies for years. He swears up and down that the Cedric guy in the fourth one looks just like me.

Jake's mouth hangs open like a gaping fish.

"Come on, Bells. Hogwarts? He-who-must-not-be-named? Ron? Hermione? Harry _fucking_ Potter. They've made movies out of it, sold billions of copies?"

Bella shrugs.

"Oh, god, the humanity!" Jake cries, performing the all too famous face smack, which makes me chuckle.

Maybe I'll buy her a copy of the series, I hear the books are even better than the movies and I have to admit, the movies are actually really good.

"You know what's really a crime against humanity?" I ask Jake, not giving him the opportunity to answer. "The fact that you're still here when I could be alone with my girlfriend in our new bedroom."

"Jeez, I get it! I know when I'm not wanted," Jake complains, picking up his school bag. "I don't want to hang out with you losers anyway."

"Yes you do," Jasper cuts in.

"Yeah, face it, you like us!" Alice quips.

"Do not!" Jake argues, heading for the door.

"You don't have to go you know, I was just messing around," I tell him, even though a part of me wasn't joking.

"I know." Jake gives me a wink as if he knows that I'm at least partially lying. "I have a test to get to."

I don't know if he actually does or not, either way I'm grateful.

"Don't fail,"

"You neither," he counters, flicking his eyes over to Bella and I know exactly what he means. Don't fail at keeping her safe.

"Never,"

The door shuts behind him and I grab Bella by the hand, helping her up.

"We're going to bed," I declare to anyone who cares, my eyes locked on hers.

"The sun isn't even down yet," she mumbles.

"We're not going to sleep," I whisper and her eyes widen as the gagging noises fill the room. I look over at Alice and Jasper who have stopped making noises and are talking adamantly with each other like nothing's happened. "Seriously? Childish much?"

Bella and I laugh as I pull her into our room with the pale green walls. The green curtains are drawn, blocking out the late afternoon sun that peeks through the clouds, giving the room a soft green hue when I close the door and turn the lock in place. The laughing stops as the lock clicks and we both come to the same conclusion; we're alone, in _our_ new apartment, in _our_ new room. I feel lighter than I've ever felt before, like a weight's been lifted off me, all the worry and drama is outside that door, and in here it's just me and my Bella. I capture her body with one hand on her waist, pressing her against me. Bella gasps as her center becomes flush with my cock, hard as steel.

"I always ache for you, my Bella," I say the words with the softness of a whispered secret, slipping my hand across her cheek and gripping the chestnut hair so different from the fake strands of my long lost hallucinations and dreams. I've made new dreams now, new fantasies that I'm dying to fulfill with a woman who's so real and amazing that it makes my heart hurt. My hand trails from her side to the front of her jeans as I tug her head back, inching my lips forward.

"I always ache to fill you…to claim you over and over again," I groan, letting my mouth run along the exposed skin of her neck as she breathes my name.

"Edward,"

My hand drifts down, sliding along the seam in the denim between her thighs as she whimpers.

"Please, touch me,"

Unable to deny her, I unbutton her jeans and slip my hand underneath the heavy material and the light cotton fabric of her thong, my fingers touch wetness, and I moan with approval as I slide my digits along her folds, her already swollen clit.

"Do you ache for me too, love? Do you ache for my cock to fill your tight pussy?" I hiss, slipping two fingers into her body as she shudders in my arms, my tongue stretching out to glide across her neck.

"Always," she cries out at the invasion of my fingers and I hear music drifting into the room, a loud throbbing beat that ignites the carnal lust that's been building for days. I've hated being quiet for fear of being caught or disturbing Alice and Jasper, but the muzzle comes off now. I work my fingers deep into her sopping wet pussy, thrusting fast and hard as I press into her clit with my thumb, sucking and biting her neck like a desperate fiend or a vampire who can't get enough of her taste.

"Edward! Oh god!" She shouts, unable to hold back as I wiggle my fingers against her g-spot vigorously. My lips move up and I feel her shiver as my breath hits her ear.

"That's a good girl; scream for me…scream for me until all I can hear is my name coming from the mouth that sucks my cock so god damn well," I growl, still thrusting into her as I walk carefully forward, pushing her body back until her knees hit the white comforter atop our king size bed.

"Holy fuck! Edward, more…more!"

"Your drenched pussy feels amazing around my fingers. I want to feel you cum, to feel it as it flows over my fingers and then, I'm going to fuck you until you can't think," I snarl, releasing her hair, I begin to pull and yank at the denim of her jeans. I want her exposed, laid out before me like the fucking dessert she is, but I need my other hand. I make to slide my fingers out of her and she cries out in agony.

"Don't stop, god, don't stop!"

She looks down and realizes my dilemma so she helps me tug off her jeans and underwear before taking off her shirt and bra as well, moaning continuously as I thrust deep inside of her.

She's leaking all over me now, wriggling as she sits on the edge of the bed, screaming in delight.

"Edward…ugh! MORE!"

I try to ignore the throbbing of my cock, the desperation that's flowing through me as she bucks towards my hand, her elbows supporting her, her head falling back and mouth opening in a perfect 'O'.

"God, I want to ram my cock in your mouth right now, to have you swallow my cum as you drench my god damn fingers. Cum for me, Bella, cum for me before I can't fucking stop myself," I beg and it's as if I've said the magic words, her pussy tightens around me, clamping down on my digits as she cums harder than I've ever seen a girl cum.

"EDWARD!"

I feel it more than see it, the juices that spill out of her in a gush, but it's enough to nearly bring me to my knees. I've heard of it, I've seen it in porn, but that is nothing compared to making my Bella squirt, nothing compared to seeing the look on her face, the overwhelming ecstasy on her features as if she's seen a slice of heaven.

"Holy fucking shit," I moan, my lips crashing down on hers as I remove my hand and practically rip off my sweat pants. I can't wait anymore, not after seeing that. I force my mouth off hers and bend her over the bed, gripping onto her tiny hips as I slam my cock inside of her.

"Yes!" I scream, twisting my hand in the tresses of her sweat filled hair as she thrusts back into me. Leaning forward, I pull her head back by her hair so that I can whisper into her ear, even though the words come out choppy from the strength of my thrusts. "I'm going to make you-, cum like that-, every fucking day-, for the rest of your life."

"OH GOD! YES! Fill me with your cum, Edward! I'm yours, always yours!" Bella pleads, her hands clutching the sheets, her back arching towards me.

"Mine!" I growl, dropping her hair so I can grip her ass with both hands. I can feel my stomach coiling, my balls tightening with every movement. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum, oh, BELLA!"

"FUCK!" Bella howls, her pussy throbbing and pulsating around me with her second release as my cock stiffens and spills inside of her, the sound of our screams the only noise either one of us can hear.

My arms wrap around her as I fall from the heavens, kissing the silky skin of her shoulder blades, the back of her neck.

"Isabella Swan owns me," I whisper. "I love you."

Her reply is soft, exhaustion in her voice.

"I love you too."

"Seriously?" Alice screams from the living room, over the sound of the music.

"Loud much?" Jasper adds.

Without even seeing her face, I know Bella's blushing, but it doesn't stop her from screaming back.

"Oh, go fuck on a table or something!"

The wall on the other side of our bed pounds and Emmett's hollers come through as a dull roar.

"Good for you, Eddie, _real_ pussy from a _real_ girl! Now keep it the fuck down!"

Bella and I laugh as we disentangle ourselves and fall to the bed. She curls up into my side, her head in the crook of my arm, and I'm not sure about her, but I've never felt safer or more loved.


	22. That's Life

**Chapter 21**

**That's Life**

"If one was to think constantly of death, the business of life would stand still."~ Samuel Johnson

**BPOV**

I open my eyes to an empty bed and a dark room, letting out a sigh. The clock says that it's nearly two and Edward still hasn't left his studio. He's been doing this since we moved in last week. He pretends that everything's fine and maybe it is during the day; however, at night he sneaks off to paint as soon as I fall sleep, clearly distraught. I'm almost positive that I know what's going on, but he refuses to admit that he's having nightmares. I think that sometimes he forgets that I've been through, and I am still going through, the same issues with guilt. His silence and avoidance has been getting to me, to us. We're both restless in the evening, fighting off insomnia and separation anxiety while he paints. The worst part is that the presence of other people makes it impossible for him to work so I promised I wouldn't go in there while he's painting. Therefore, I'm stuck here, by myself in this massive bed, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it. The room feels too hot so I kick off my pajama pants, leaving me in only my panties and nightshirt. Rolling over to lay on my back, I breathe out a huff of air in irritation at the fact that there's no one here to care about the loss of my pants. My stomach knots uncomfortably and I have to bury my face in his pillow to inhale his cinnamon scent. This sucks!

I'm so tired of feeling sick and empty every night, and it certainly doesn't help that the tension around here is through the roof. Alice and I finally talked to one of the feds in charge of Aro's investigation two days ago. The conversation on the phone was short, and we were strictly informed not to use our names because they're afraid someone might be watching us or tapping our phone lines. The agent we spoke with made a decision quickly to send one of the undercover agents to gather testimonies from us. Then, the call was ended, no time, date, or location given. Of course, all of us are now on edge, waiting for this agent to show up, especially Edward.

He would never admit it, but he's scared shitless of what will happen to him and truthfully, so am I. We all know he has to tell the truth, including his own participation in the crimes, which could lead to him serving hard time. My stomach crunches more intensely at the idea of losing him, not to something as horrible as death, but as mundane as prison. The gnawing ache is so bad that after a while, I just can't take it anymore. I need to be closer to him.

I get up from the bed and walk slowly over to the door across the hall from our bedroom. Resting my ear against the wooden barrier, I listen carefully for any noise. It's silent except for the sound of my breathing and the quiet does nothing to calm my stomach, leading my mind to wander to riskier methods of getting closer. Perhaps, I could just poke my head in. I don't see how it could do any harm. Controlling my rapidly increasing breathing, I reach out to latch my hand around the doorknob. It turns easily, without making a sound, and I'm tremendously thankful for our new apartment. The new non-squeaky floors and soundless hardware make sneaking into Edward's studio a breeze.

He's so concentrated on the canvas in front of him that he doesn't even realize that I'm behind him just a few feet away. The moment reminds me of the first time I saw him at 'Still Life', except for the fact that his clothes are different of course. He only has a pair of sweats on, his normal sleeping attire. The sight of him in so little makes my thighs quiver even though I had him mere hours before, and I can't help the smile that pulls at my lips. I'm forever in need of him whether it's been minutes, hours, or days, and I'm pretty sure that's not exactly the norm for everyone else. It makes me happy because it's like a constant reassurance that I'm taking the right steps with the right person. I watch as his arm and shoulder muscles flex under his ink. I sometimes forget how damn beautiful his tattoos look. Maybe it's because the reasoning behind them isn't quite as beautiful. He's so guilty about stealing art from the world that he insisted on wearing great works of art on his body as a way of making amends. He claims that the pain he experienced while receiving his tattoos was a sort of punishment as well. That's why he went so detailed. Still, I love his tattoos, despite his purpose. They really are stunning.

Vincent Van Gogh's Starry Night is perfectly depicted on his sculpted upper body, and the image is so vibrant and magical that it nearly takes my breath away. The blues, blacks, greens, yellows, and oranges, twist, curve, and stretch across his skin. They fill his back, his sides, and chest, sealing in the spaces between the tribal swirls around the left half of his broad front, his shoulders, and down his left arm. It seems to have no beginning and no end, but I recognize the base of the structure that looks like a tall black flame from the original painting. It envelopes part of his back and his entire left side, extending up his rib cage where it peaks. It's a starting point for my eyes. I scan the houses and buildings on the right side of his lower back and follow them to where they encase his side, admiring the mountains and spirals of swooping colors above them with reverence. I know, without seeing, that the glorious moon, the star of the whole painting, is placed over his right clavicle; the same place I like to rest my left hand when I'm straddling his form.

My mind wanders to thoughts of gripping his slick skin and my memory conjures up the smell of cinnamon and strawberries and sweat. I walk forward without thinking, sliding my hand up the length of his spine with a gentle caress. His body trembles from the contact, and the movement snaps me out of my ink-induced trance.

"Sorry, I, um-," I fumble to find words to apologize for invading his space, dropping my hand, but Edward doesn't even look in my direction. Instead, he simply continues to paint.

I allow my eyes to wander to the canvas in front of him and I literally have to bite my own tongue to keep the scream that wants to escape me bottled up. I didn't know it was this bad…no wonder he can't sleep at night. Looking at the rest of the studio, I realize there are half a dozen or so canvases with the same exact theme, a sea of lifeless faces engulfed in flames of fiery red and orange with smoke billowing out around all the edges. They're horrifying images and the fact that each face is familiar makes it even more terrifying. He finishes the matted bronze hair of his mother before his brush picks up a dark chestnut brown. In shock, I gaze on as he practically attacks the canvas with short angry strokes to form my half-singed hair, tears building and falling down his face.

"Edward," I say his name while I grasp onto his shoulder and shake him, but he doesn't stop. "Edward, god damn it, look at me!"

His head snaps in my direction and I lock eyes with his tear-streaked face, all scrunched up in confusion and anguish. I'm taken back by the color of his eyes, there so dark, such a deep, dark green that I actually gasp.

"What-, what are you doing in here?" He asks, his wits coming back to him at the sound and I can see the look in his face, the anger starting to grow.

"You're done for tonight," I state, grabbing the brush out of his hand.

"What the-" he tries to protest, but before he has the opportunity, I latch my eyes with his and grasp his hand, placing it on my chest.

"I'm alive, Edward!" I tell him, my voice full of conviction. I can feel my heart beating heavily even with his hand in the way, his fingers laced in mine. "Can't you feel my heart pounding? Can't you see the light in my eyes? I'm alive and you're wasting our precious time together by painting me and everyone else in your life as corpses."

I kneel down so that I'm eye level with him, and somewhere in the dark pools of his eyes, I see the emerald green of my Edward.

"I love you and I won't sit back and watch you pretend to live," I say softly, my voice strained as I squeeze his fingers tightly. "I want you to _live_ with me, Edward. How are you ever supposed to live if you shut out the rest of the world, if you won't appreciate what's right in front of you? You need to let the guilt go. We all die and you don't have the right to assume whether it was the right time for those people or not."

I can feel the rightness of the words as they leave my mouth and the wet droplets that slide across my cheek bore my own epiphany. The more they fall, the more I understand how wrong my own guilt is, how the words meant for him are as much for me.

"Life is a daring adventure and some adventures end sooner than others; I want to enjoy whatever time I have with you, but in order for us to do that, we have to stop living life as if we're in one of your stills. We can't ever move forward if we're standing still and I want to walk with you."

His fingers clench around my digits, and tears slide down our faces, tears full of our guilt and the pain we carry. I place my free hand on his cheek and rub my thumb across one of the beads of guilt, wiping it away as I lean forward to press my lips to his. There is no hesitation in the connection just a satisfied moan that escapes us both as we caress our tongues and lips together. Inside me, I can feel it, the years of guilt fading. I feel free, alive.

"Paint me, Edward. Paint me as only you see me, wet and slick for you…always for you," I moan around his incoherent groans, and his hand releases mine, sliding up to cradle my neck.

"I have a better idea," he pants, slipping onto the floor and laying me back onto the hardwood.

Once I'm laid flat, Edward pulls a pair of scissors out of his case by the easel and I stare at him in awe as he begins to cut a line up the front of my shirt. The metal against my stomach is cold, running along my skin with the gentleness of a feather and when my tits are free of the fabric, I let out an uninhibited moan.

"Oh!"

A smirk takes over his face, his green eyes sparkling adoringly as he presses the cool metal on the outside of my left thigh, snipping the waistband of my panties.

"Ugh!" I groan in approval and he snips the other side, dropping the scissors so that he can run his hands up my body and cup my tits. "Edward."

He flicks his fingers over the taut peaks of my nipples and my back arches instinctually as I beg for more.

"Your mouth…I want to feel your mouth on my tits…please!" I whimper, my arousal beginning to soak the cotton lining of the cut panties that lay limp against my pussy.

"God, you're incredible." The sentence comes out in an exhale before he entraps my right nipple, twirling his tongue around it.

"Yes," I hiss, his teeth nibbling, the suction of his wet mouth around my flesh making me dizzy with euphoria.

He leans back and I groan at the separation, causing Edward to let out a breathy chuckle.

"Patience, love," he coos, stretching out a hand to reach for a clean brush and a bottle of red paint. He stops mid-reach however, and cuts off a strip of my shirt, signaling for me to lean my head forward.

Carefully, he ties the band around my eyes, securing it at the back while my heart races, anticipation, and desperation coursing through my veins. The two sensations mix with each other, churning in my belly, causing my arousal to drip even more. I think he's done with the cloth, but he surprises me by lifting my arms over my head. I feel another strap of cotton being wrapped around my wrists, and I become wetter then I ever imagined I could be. I'm like a live wire now, so turned on by the thought of what he's doing that when I actually feel his cold paintbrush on my nipple, I scream out with pleasure, my arms pull up, and the cotton tugs at my wrists.

"Holy fuck!"

I'm tied to something; I think it might be the leg of his studio sofa. Edward's hand covers my mouth as he laughs at my reaction, making me growl, angrily. Suddenly, his mouth is at my ear, whispering softly, seductively.

"I think I'll gag you too."

I moan loudly against the palm of his hand, wiggling my hips in agreement. I'm not quite sure what he's going to gag me with, but fuck, I'm all for it. I feel his free hand tug my torn up panties out from underneath me and I let out another throaty moan. Oh, fuck yes. He uncovers my mouth, rubbing my bottom lip with his thumb.

"Open," he commands, husky and breathless, clearly as turned on as I am by the new development.

I comply, tasting my own wetness on the cotton as he inserts it into my mouth, increasing my arousal, making my pussy throb. He bends my knees up and then, spreads my legs wide to both anchor me in place and get a good view.

"Mm, someone's wet," Edward whispers, running the wooden end of the brush across my clit as I let out a muffled moan around the cotton. "Does being all tied-up turn you on, love? Is that it?"

He replaces the handle of the brush with his fingers, running his strong digits through my folds and I whimper, nodding my head in response to his question.

"You're my perfect little slut, you know that?" he groans, pressing just the tips of his fingers into me. I feel the paint-coated brush running along my stomach, swirling, and writing on my overheated skin as he pushes into me further, teasingly. My stomach coils at the invasion of his fingers and his words, and the softness coupled with the chill of the brush makes me shiver as he moves towards my tits. "You suck my cock until I cum down your throat, you fuck me any damn time I want, and you always enjoy it, you're always begging for it. If that's not fucking perfect, I don't know what is."

The paintbrush strokes one of my nipples while his fingers curl inside my body and I buck towards his hand, howling against the material in my mouth.

"Not only are you the perfect slut, but you're the perfect woman, Bella, the perfect match for me in every way," he praises and his tone is so sweet, the complete opposite of the way he's making me feel, carnal and lustful, needy and tortured. The pressure inside of me as he begins to thrust his fingers along my g-spot is practically explosive.

"HOLY SHIT!" I scream into the balled up panties, my back arching all the way off the floor.

"Show me what it's like to see heaven. Cum for me, love, cum for me," he pants while thrusting faster, harder, hitting that wonderful spot as I begin to tumble into the abyss, my pussy pulsing around his fingers.

It feels like I'm falling, flying, and floating all at the same time and somewhere in the back of my mind, I sense the paintbrush, the sweeping motion as he draws a heart on my chest, sending me crashing, releasing with a rush while I cry out his name.

The panties are pulled out of my mouth and his lips crash on mine, and all I can think about is cinnamon, hearts, and love.

"Mine!" he growls.

"Yours," I moan around his kisses, attempting to yank my hands free, needing to touch him, to feel him, to see him.

My wrists slide loose with one hard tug and I tear off the blindfold with near super-human speed. Edward's eyes go wide with shock as I shove him back onto the floor, flat on his back, but with one sharp pull and a whimpered please, his sweats are gone and I'm able to bury his cock inside of me

"Fuck, Bella," he grunts, his hands gripping onto my hips and guiding me along his length.

My fingers crawl up his abs until I'm digging my nails into his pecs as I ride his cock, my head tilted skyward and my stomach coiling for a second release.

"That's it, slam your pussy down on my fucking cock," Edward snarls, clutching so hard onto my hips that it makes me see stars.

"Edward, oh god, so good…ugh!"

He pulls my hands from his chest by the wrists, almost causing me to lose my balance, and he sits up so that my chest is flush against his and every thrust I make takes him in that much deeper.

"Oh, fuck!" I squeal and he buries his head in my neck, nibbling and licking my skin as he growls at me.

"Ugh, make me cum, Bella…make me cum deep inside your perfect fucking cunt."

My eyes roll back at his words and I feel myself on the edge.

"Shit! Edward!" I cry, my hands finding purchase in his hair and tugging hard as I move faster.

"So close…Almost! God, don't stop!" he begs, his eyes now level with mine, his face scrunching. I rotate my hips slightly and his cock stiffens inside of me "UGH!"

His serene face, the look of utter satisfaction in his features as he spills inside me, is enough to jolt me right over the edge, sending me pulsating around him as I clutch onto his tousled, messy hair.

We both go still and silent, except for the frantic panting of air, his body relaxing enough so that I can look down and see his handy work. There's a heart on my chest right below my neck, across each of my tits is the word 'mine' and above my pussy, on the flat surface of my belly, is the most shocking thing I think I've ever seen.

My mouth drops open as Edward gives me an exhausted, worried smile.

"You were right, I am tired of standing still," he says, breathless, "but I don't want to walk, Bella. I want to run. Will you run with me?"

I don't know how to speak, this is insane, absolutely insane, but the overwhelming warmth in my chest tells me it's right. _He_ is right, right for me in every way.

"Yes," I reply, and the smile on Edward's lips is so radiant that I damn near forget to breathe.

"It's not fair to dazzle people like that," I murmur, my head still spinning from the pure craziness I just agreed to.

"Maybe not, but I'm sure you'll learn to handle it, Mrs. Cullen."

My cheeks blush a fire engine red and Edward chuckles before capturing my lips with his. I don't know if I'm ever going to want to wash the paint from my body, at least if I do the words already seem to be burned behind my eyelids, upside down and in bright red they read, 'Marry Me?'


	23. Up, Down, and All Around

**Chapter 22**

**Up, Down, and All Around**

"Life is full of ups and downs. The trick is to enjoy the ups and have courage during the downs."~ Unknown Author

**EPOV**

I walk around the whole apartment for the billionth time as I grip my cell phone in my hand. I just want to make absolutely sure that the place is empty and it is. Stepping into the bedroom, I shut and lock the door before dropping down onto the bed. Everyone's next door, watching the game on Emmett's big screen. Well, Jasper and Emmett are watching the game; the girls are probably doing something else. I'm supposed to be over there myself, but I told Bella that I wanted to take a quick shower, which wasn't a lie. However, it was a lie when she asked if I wanted her to join me and I told her to go ahead without me, but there was no other way to get her out of the apartment and I need to make this phone call.

"What the fuck? That's a shit call! He was out of fucking bounds!" Rose shouts, her voice penetrating through the walls of mine and Bella's bedroom.

I have to pause for a second to shake my head in surprise. Emmett is with a long legged blonde who actually likes football, swears like a sailor, and is intensely loyal. Wow, talk about the perfect match. I bet she shares his kinky preferences too. Thank god, we share a wall with their living room and not their bedroom. I prefer not to listen to my brother be dominated.

"Fuck no! His foot was on the line, Barbie!" Emmett hollers…uh oh.

"Excuse me?" Rose counters with her tone an octave higher than normal and angry as hell. "You did not just call me Barbie!"

Okay then, so much for silence. Emmett, with his overly zealous love for football, is no doubt going to get into a full on screaming match over the referee's call. The walls may not be as paper-thin as the ones in Bella's old apartment, but as Bella and I discovered our first night, the louder voices still carry. I'll have to find some way to make the call later. With a sigh of frustration, I head out of the bedroom. I'm just about to walk through the front door when an idea suddenly comes to mind of a quiet place that I could make my call.

I step out onto the patio and breathe in the scent of fall in Seattle. It smells simply of rain, pine trees, salt, and a little like the Hostess factory downtown. The sounds of Emmett and Rosalie are somehow more muted out here and the chill in the air brings a smile to my face when it hits my bare arms. The cold feels nice. I take a moment to watch the people of the city 10 stories below me, the people walking with their raincoats on, expecting rain even though the afternoon sky is clear for once, and I struggle to remember the last time I stepped outside. I'm pretty sure it was when we moved in last week.

That day I thought that I was okay, I thought that living with Bella and being around her as often as possible would take the guilt away, but it just found a different way to torment me. Her presence couldn't stop the nightmares. Once my eyes closed, I would see them all, every one of my family and friends, burning before me. The worst part is that I tried to save them, all of them, but I was always too late. No matter what I did, they all would die.

The first night was almost too much to bear and before I knew it, I didn't want to sleep at all. I started to spend my nights in the studio, falling into brief lapses of sleep until my twitching body, covered in sweat, ripped me awake. After that, I would paint and wait for the rising sun, for some small piece of light to enter the darkness. Bella would wake up and her body and spirit would give me enough strength to pretend to function, to play the charade for her sake. A smile curls up my lips. She saw right through me though. Last night, she made me see something more than the past. She made me think of the future, a future that I couldn't imagine without her. I didn't give myself the opportunity to second guess the image of Bella dressed in white that flashed before my eyes. It was probably selfish for me to ask her to marry me, knowing that we both are in this horrible situation and I still have healing to do, but it just felt right so damn the nightmares. If they come again tonight, we'll deal with them together and I'll find a way to live again for her because that's what life is for, living.

I dial the number on my phone and place it to my ear. It rings only two times before I hear her familiar voice.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mom."

"Edward! Oh, it's so good to hear from you. How's the new place?"

The curiosity and tinge of worry in her voice makes me feel terrible. I should really start calling her more often. I wasn't even the one who told her I had moved. Emmett did that for me. He refused to tell her about Bella or Aro though; he said that was my responsibility and he's right.

"The place is nice. Jasper's girlfriend, Alice, did all the decorating and it actually looks amazing. I never thought I would like the whole unicorns and hearts theme, but it plays off beautifully with the pink furniture and purple walls."

Mom laughs a little at my joke and my heart warms. It feels so good to make her happy.

"Seriously though, she used some neutral colors for the furniture and walls. It pulls the room together really well. The pixie has some natural talent for design. At least our place looks better than Emmett and Rosalie's apartment. It's as if a sports bar exploded over there with the neon lights, big screen T.V., beer signs, and sports memorabilia all over the walls. I was surprised Rose even went for that, but turns out she's as much into sports as he is so I guess it works."

"So, you like the girls and you're all getting along okay?" She asks.

"Yeah, Mom," I reply before I take a deep breath and prepare myself to tell her what I really called about. "The thing is I'm better than okay. I know Emmett didn't tell you this, but another girl moved in with us. She and Alice are close friends, they worked at the same coffee shop and sort of grew up together, and well, I was hoping I could bring her to Thanksgiving dinner next week so you could meet her because she's actually my girl…"

My mouth stops working half way through the word 'girlfriend' at the same time that the image of Bella dressed in white flashes in my mind just as it did last night, filling me with overwhelming warmth, and making me throw all caution to the wind.

"No, I was going to say girlfriend, but she's not my girlfriend, she's more than that…Mom, I asked her to marry me, and she said yes. I love her, and I know this sounds crazy because I don't have the best track record when it comes to relationships. I screwed up bad before and I never said this, but thank you, thank you for not giving up on me and believing in me when I needed you to. I just hope you believe me now when I say that Bella Swan is the one for me and I would love to bring her to dinner so that you can meet the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with, however long or short that may be."

My heart is racing. I can't believe I just told my mother I'm getting married before Bella even had the chance to meet her. Oh god, what if Bella didn't want her to know, what if she wanted to tell Alice first or if she wanted to not tell anyone until after the issue with Aro is taken care of just in case I'm put away or something. I bury my head in my hands to pull at my hair. Fuck, I'm such an idiot! Maybe I got lucky, maybe she told Alice…no, she couldn't have I would have heard Alice's deafening screech if Bella had told her. She probably would have squealed out something about wanting to see a ring…Shit, I proposed to Bella without a ring! How fucking stupid am I? What kind of moron proposes without a damn ring? I take a break from berating myself to notice the phone is still silent. Damn it…

"Um, Mom, are you still there?"

"Yes, Honey, I'm still here. I was just writing out a grocery list for next week. Do you think I should make ham with the turkey or no?"

"What?" I ask, utterly baffled. Not only do I not care because I don't like turkey or ham, unless they're sliced deli thin and served on a sandwich, but I also don't care because I don't get why she's talking about buying fucking groceries after what I just told her.

I notice that my arms are shaking from the cold and I start to think that I might be going a little loopy from the fresh air and the low temperature. While still holding the phone to my ear, I walk back inside and shut the sliding door behind me, enveloping myself in warm air, hoping it will help. Nope, I'm still confused as fuck.

"Well, does Bella like turkey? Oh, never mind, I'll just make both. It is Thanksgiving after all and there will be a lot of us here this year."

"What the-, did you even hear everything I said?" I reply, my head spinning as I flop down on the tan sofa. Perhaps I didn't hear her right, but the arguing has stopped so it's not like there was any other sound to distract me.

"Yes, Honey, I heard what you said. You're bringing your fiancé for Thanksgiving dinner."

"Okay," I say, drawing out the word into two long syllables. "Doesn't that shock you? Because to be quite honest, it's shocking me that it's not shocking you. You didn't even know I had a girlfriend. Most moms would think that I'm making a huge mistake."

"Edward," she says with an exasperated sigh. "I'm not most moms, I'm _your_ mom, and I know my boys. This woman has changed you; I hear it in your voice. She's brought you to life and I would never believe for a moment that this wasn't the right decision for you because I know you. You love her and you want to marry her, so I say do it. If it turns out be a mistake, which I don't think it is, at least you lived for a little while. By the way, Honey, you have two brothers. Just because Emmett didn't tell me about Bella doesn't mean that Jasper didn't mention her."

"Son of a bitch…that little nark!"

"For crying out loud, Edward Masen Cullen! You're worse with the language than Emmett is these days. Watch your mouth or I'll be washing it out with soap next time I see you. Jeez, Bella probably thinks wolves raised you both. I can't imagine how she puts up with you having such a dirty mouth."

I force myself to hold back a laugh and the retort that goes something along the lines of 'She puts up with it great, even better when I can make her cum multiple times.'

"And don't talk about your brother like that. He wasn't tattling to try to get you in trouble. He was talking to me about you because he was concerned for you and it's not like you explicitly told him not to tell me from what I hear."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry," I murmur.

"You know, I would have liked for you to have been the one to tell me about her," she says sadly, breathing out a huff of air before continuing. "Regardless, she seems like a lovely girl from what Jasper tells me and I'm excited to meet her and the other two sweet girls that your brothers haven't stopped talking about. I love that you all have found someone who makes you happy, it makes _me_ happy."

"And I am happy, I'm so happy when I'm with her. She's wonderful, Mom, she's funny and smart and beautiful…" I say, trailing off because I don't think there's any word in any language that quite sums her up. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about her, but there's just been so much going on and I was worried about wrecking things-"

"I know," she interrupts. "That's another thing we need to discuss. Jasper told us about Aro. I wish you hadn't lied about not knowing his name before you went into hiding. Maybe we could have helped you better."

My heart hurts at the emotion straining her voice.

"I didn't want to put you at risk, the less you knew about the boss, the safer it was for you. I was looking out for you and Dad…and myself." I add the last part quietly. It makes me feel like a bit of a coward to admit that I was so terrified. I didn't even attempt to call the feds until months after I had moved and even then, I obviously didn't try very hard to get their attention.

"It's okay. I understand. We all get scared sometimes," she assures, her voice smooth and soft again like melted butter. "Do you want me to call in Mr. Jenks for you? You may want him present for the questioning with the agent. Alice declined to let us send him for her, but then again, she really has no reason to need a lawyer."

"Um, no…that's okay. I'm just going to tell the truth. I did the crime, regardless of why. No one held me at gunpoint. It will probably be best if I lay it all out on the table, you know. Do you want me to leave you and Dad out? I mean, I don't want to lie if they ask me directly if you helped, but I won't tell them if you don't want me to."

"Oh, Honey," she responds. "Your father and I have been expecting this for a long time. We're prepared for our consequences just as you are. Que sera, sera…"

"Whatever will be, will be." I end the phrase that my Mom used to tell me often when I was younger, my voice softening with the memory. Her mom used to say the same thing. The thought of Grandma Elizabeth makes me chuckle. She was crazy as a bat, but the woman was smart and she had good taste in jewelry and art. JEWELRY! "Hey, Mom, do you still have those hand me down rings from Grandma Elizabeth's collection?"

"Of course I do, but what do you…OH! Edward, you really should have given a ring to the girl!"

"I know, I know! It was kind of spontaneous though and I think it would be kind of nice for her to have something that's been in the family for years, just as long as it's not that huge, hideous oval one." The thought of that monstrosity on Bella's finger makes me cringe.

"Definitely not, I know just the one. Well, go spend some time with the others and enjoy your Bella, I'll see you next week."

"Alright…" I pause for a moment and add, "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, Honey."

I end the phone call feeling even more spectacular than I felt at the beginning and stand up to rush next door, my previous worries eliminated. I'm about to open the door when I hear a knock. I check through the peephole, and have to do a double take to be sure of who's there because she's alone and she hasn't been to the new apartment yet. Not to mention it is kind of weird that she's wearing a suit, I thought she was a full-time college student, that's what Jake said. Maybe she's supposed to meet him here for some weird date or something. I open the door.

"Um, Jake's not here," I tell her, not quite sure what to say.

"I'm not here to see Jake, I'm here to see you," she says, sounding all straight-laced and business like. I watch as she looks cautiously in both directions before reaching into her coat and pulling out a wallet. She opens it and I feel like I'm going to shit my fucking pants.

"No! You're fucking kidding me? Please tell me that's a damn misprint because if this is a joke, it's not funny," I holler. Staring at me from the wallet is a laminated I.D. with the following words:

Kate Denali  
Special Agent, FBI

"I know you're alarmed, but keep your damn voice down. I'm on your side and I'm not dying for you, Cullen, especially not at the hands of my two skanky ass sisters. The case warranted the best and I am the best. Now get your shit together, you look like you're about to piss yourself," she hisses, finishing just as the door next door opens and Emmett pokes his head out, looking at me and then at the I.D.

"You okay?" He asks, his tone laced with concern.

"No, yes," I blurt out.

"Well, which one is it, Eddie?"

I place my hands over my eyes and rub my face as I mumble.

"Both, Emelia, most definitely both,"

"You're getting married? Oh, my god, you're getting married! Where's the ri-, Edward Cullen, you didn't give this woman a fucking ring?" Alice shouts, and I can hear her tiny feet stampeding towards the door. She does the same thing as Emmett, looking at me then the I.D., before ushering Kate into Emmett and Rosalie's while giving me a glare that says 'You're not off the hook.'

"Ah, I see, engagement and an interrogation all in one day. I can understand how that might be slightly conflicting," Emmett says, clapping me on the back. "For someone who didn't live for so long, you certainly know how to make life interesting, that's for sure."


	24. Saddling Up

**Chapter 23**

**Saddling Up**

"Courage is being scared to death ... and saddling up anyway."~ John Wayne

**BPOV**

"Em said yes, it's just an extra one, he never even wore it," Alice announces when she comes back in, clapping her hands as I let out a sigh. "Come on, Bella, I promise you Edward's going to love this. Just try it on…please?"

Her bottom lip pulls down into a pout and I roll my eyes at her, snatching the green and gold fabric from her hands. On the back of the high school jersey is Emmett's old number, 32, with the last name Cullen across the top. Then, on the front, is the same number, but above it is the school name, Roosevelt, and below it is the mascot name, Rough Riders.

"Really? Rough Riders?" I snort. "The kids must have fun with that."

"Oh, they do," Alice states with a tinkling laugh. "Em apparently used to use the line, 'Are you looking for a rough ride?' all the time."

I shake my head. Of course he did. I go to pull off my shirt, but Alice squeals and stops me.

"Oh, these pants too!"

She hands me a pair of tight black pants from the top shelf of Rose and Emmett's massive walk-in closet and I huff out a breath in annoyance.

"Seriously, Ali, there's no way those are going to fit."

"Oh my god, would you just quit complaining already and try them on?"

"All right, all right already. Jeez, don't get your panties in a twist," I reply.

As I unzip my jeans to take them off, I wonder if Alice has been possessed by a fashion diva or something. I must have tried on 20 different pairs of shoes in the past half hour at her demand. At least I think it's been a half hour, there's no clock in here. Alice dragged me in here to check out Rose's shoe collection the moment we arrived and hasn't let me leave since, all because I opened my big mouth. I had to comment on the fact that Rose and I have the same shoe size. It was so shocking though that it just slipped out. To be quite honest, I rather liked trying on the shoes, even if I can't walk in high heels for shit, because it did an okay job of distracting me from the fact that Edward's still not here. Well, not really. My stomach knots a bit, but I force the anxiety back as I pull off my jeans and replace them with the black pants.

"Told you they'd fit," she says. "Now, the shirt,"

Why isn't he here yet? He said he just wanted to take a shower; showers don't take this long, it certainly didn't last night anyway. I reach for the hem of my shirt and pull it up as the memory comes rushing back. My skin blushes while I recall him washing off the paint from my stomach with a grin, and how he laughed when he realized it stained and wouldn't come off. Oh, shit!

My mind slams back into reality and I look at Alice. She's standing in front of me speechless, frozen in place, her mouth dropped open in shock. Damn it, I didn't want her to find out this way. I wanted to have Edward with me when we told everyone. I wanted to have him by my side so that they wouldn't second guess how in love we are and how happy we make each other, so that no one would think we're making a mistake like the many people before us because I don't think that and neither does Edward. We're moving fast. Nevertheless, it's the way that it's supposed to be with us, I know it is. I can feel it in my gut. How do you explain that to someone?

"Um, uh-" I start to try to say something, anything to convey the way I feel, but I don't get the opportunity because Edward's hollering voice cuts me off.

"No! You're fucking kidding me? Please tell me that's a damn misprint because if this is a joke, it's not funny."

I want to run to him and find out what the hell is going on except I'm not wearing a shirt. Moving quickly, I slip on the jersey, somehow managing to get it on the right way. Thank goodness for small miracles. I'm about to make my escape from the closet when Alice decides to reanimate and grasps me by the wrist. Well, so much for small miracles then.

"You're getting married?" Alice shouts and I nod my head as if on autopilot. "Oh, my god, you're getting married!"

With a beaming smile, she turns my wrist in her hand.

"Where's the ri-,"

"He didn't give me one, it's not a big deal," I blurt out, interrupting her.

The smile falls away as anger flashes in her eyes.

"Edward Cullen, you didn't give this woman a fucking ring?" She shouts, dropping my wrist and disappearing into the living room as I race after her.

Son of a bitch, is there ever a dull moment around here?

Apparently not. Everyone's talking at once when I emerge out in the living room and it's hard to hear any specific person. From what I can gather, everyone seems surprised, but pleased by our engagement, Alice is pissed at Edward for not buying me a ring, Edward is upset at Kate for some reason, and Kate is dressed in a suit?

The noise level is insane so I put my finger and thumb to my lips, letting out a loud ass whistle that both annoys the fuck out of everyone, but also shuts them the hell up.

"Ah, much better," I sigh, walking up to Edward in the silence and grasping his hand. "Now, will someone please let me in on what's going on?"

I see everyone's lips twitch in anticipation and I decide to amend my request.

"Never mind," I say before pointing to Kate. "You have the floor, talk."

"I'm special agent Kate Denali and I'm here to take your testimonies."

"What?" I mumble in confusion, my heart sinking to the pit of my stomach. I turn my head to look at Edward and he gives me a nod. No wonder he's upset with Kate.

"And now that I finally have everyone's attention, I'd like to start with Alice. Is there some place private that we can talk?" Kate's aqua eyes lock on Alice and she shakes her head.

"No, I want them to stay."

"Okay." Kate nods in understanding and turns to Edward and me. "Does that go for you two as well?"

I look around at everyone's sad/happy/scared/irritated faces and my response is immediate.

"I'm good with that. I don't have anything to hide." Edward appears hesitant and I know he's afraid of telling the truth. I also know that it's what needs to be done, and having us here to support him, will give him the courage to do it. I give him a pointed look, and add, "None of us do."

He squeezes my hand and clears his throat to answer.

"Yeah, that's fine."

We're all silent as we take seats- Edward and me thigh to thigh on one of the black leather sofas, Kate in one of the matching recliners, Rose on Emmett's lap in the other, and Alice leaning against Jasper's chest, his arms wrapped around her, on the floor.

Emmett shuts the television off, and Kate pulls out a tape recorder, setting it on the coffee table, and pressing the record button without delay.

"This is testimony taken for the case against Aro Paolo Volturi by agent Katelynn Louise Denali, ID number 287-46A. Please state your full name for the record."

"Alice Marie Brandon."

"Hey, why didn't you ever tell me we had the same middle name, Ali?" I ask, my curiosity over riding my judgment momentarily. Kate glares at me. "Sorry."

"You never asked," Alice replies.

An hour passes as Alice relays her story about Victoria and Aro, breaking twice to escape to the bathroom. Both Jasper and I try to follow, but Kate won't allow it because it's against policy. I damn near punch her in the face the second time. It doesn't even make a difference to me that I can see in her eyes how sorry she is. Lucky for her, Edward steps in and stops me from breaking the bitch's nose.

"Alright, Edward, you're up," Kate declares, changing tapes in the recorder.

I peer over at Edward and if I didn't know any better, I would think he's ill. His face is a ghostly white and clammy, the palm of his hand is slick in mine and his skin is hot to the touch. I lean into him to whisper in his ear.

"It's okay, Edward. Just breathe for me, baby."

"I don't know if I can do this," he whispers back in a strained voice.

I place my free hand on his cheek and turn his head in my direction, speaking softly as the others talk amongst themselves and Kate stores away Alice's tape.

"Yes, you can, you're just scared. You can do this, I believe in you. The worst thing that can happen is they take you, and if they do, you know I'll be waiting. I'll be counting down the seconds until you return, and I can make you my husband because I love you, Edward."

"I love you too, Bella, so much."

He presses his lips to mine and for a moment, everything is perfect. His lips are soft and warm and I feel the electricity, heat, and love between us. Then, the click of the tape recorder tears us apart and the room goes silent. Everyone's eyes fall on Edward, preparing for the worst and hoping for the best.

"This is testimony taken for the case against Aro Paolo Volturi by agent Katelynn Louise Denali, ID number 287-46A. Please state your full name for the record."

I can hear him swallow back his nerves and feel his pulse racing in my hand.

"Edward Masen Cullen."

"Whenever you're ready, Mr. Cullen, start with the first time you ever heard of Aro Volturi and I'll stop you periodically to ask questions."

He takes a deep breath, tightening his grip on my hand.

"The first time I ever heard of Aro, I wasn't told his name. It was two years ago and I was dating a woman named Tanya Denali. We met at a charity function and I stupidly fell into a relationship with her. She convinced me that a mafia boss was threatening her life because of a past boyfriend's involvement with the organization. I offered to give her money to pay him, but he wanted something different. She took me to meet the man and he introduced himself as Aro Volturi. He then claimed that if Tanya and I got him what he wanted, he would let us live in peace so I agreed."

"And what is it you agreed to obtain for Mr. Volturi?"

Edward clears his throat and after a few moments of silence, he answers with his voice shaky.

"It turns out the boss had a taste for fine art. I-, I made a deal with him to break into the Seattle Museum of Art where my mother works, and steal half a dozen paintings ranging in price from $20,000 to $1.5 million…"

Kate's eyes widen, her professionalism slipping as she presses the stop button on the recorder.

"Would you like to contact a lawyer?" She asks and Edward shakes his head adamantly in refusal. Her voice falls to a whisper, almost as if she's concerned someone might be listening. "If you don't get a lawyer, I have to continue this interview and if I do and you tell me that you went through with this, it could cost you years in a state penitentiary and a criminal record. I would have to take you into government custody. Of course, I would try to work out something with my superiors, but I would still have to take you into our local field office and book you. They're going to want to question you heavily and there's no guarantee that a judge will allow you to post bail if they decide to charge you. Even if it is allowed, just making bail could take anywhere from a few hours to a few days depending on the amount. Are you absolutely sure about this, Edward?"

His eyes wander around the room, stopping on different faces as everyone does their best to give reassuring smiles. When his vibrant green orbs full of dread, fall on me however, I have to use every bit of my control not to tell him to run.

"Promise me you won't abandon me like her and that you won't leave me to face this alone," he pleads and I nod my head, forcing back my tears as I respond aloud.

"I promise,"

"Okay." He gestures for Kate to turn the recorder back on, and with a sigh of defeat, she presses the record button.

"And did you go through with this task, Mr. Cullen?" She asks, her voice giving no indication that she already knows the answer.

"Yes."

I give Edward a smile because I want him to know I'm proud of him and his expression is one of complete and total relief. I've never felt more proud or more scared in my whole life.

"This recording is being placed on hold and will be continued once Mr. Cullen has been read his rights and booked into custody."

Kate shuts off the device, pulls her cell phone from her pocket, and dials a number.

"I need someone to come and collect Mr. Cullen for booking on theft charges, please, and put me through to Sam Uley." She covers the microphone on her cell phone and addresses Edward and I. "I'm still going to have to get testimony from you, Bella, but we'll just wait until after they pick you up, Edward. They won't be here for about 20 more minutes."

She raises her eyebrows as if to point out something. We're clearly confused on what it is though. Kate sighs loudly.

"I was a bit harsh earlier and I'm trying to make it up to you here," she explains, sounding slightly annoyed. "I suggest the two of you _use_ that time before I change my mind."

The light bulb clicks and Edward doesn't need to be told twice. He pulls me by my arm out the front door and for once, there's no teasing from the others. We rush into our apartment and as soon as he shuts the door, his body is up against mine, pressing into me in all the right places, eliciting deep, satisfied moans from us both. He kisses me as his hands roam my sides, his tongue slipping in to taste my tongue. His cinnamon taste is so delicious. My god, how is it that he always tastes so good?

"Edward, so good," I pant around his lips and reach up to bury my hands in his hair, tugging the strands between my fingers. "You're so fucking good."

"God, Bella, holy hell," he groans, his lips leaving mine to press kisses on my neck and collarbone as he unbuttons and unzips my pants, tugging them down with some help from me so that they fall to the floor with my panties.

He grips my thighs, pulling my legs off the ground and I wrap them around his waist, pressing my bare feet into the swell of his back in an attempt to get him closer. I need him closer. I need more; more heat, more Edward.

"Please," I whimper, the ability to vocalize what I want not coming to me, like there's some block on my thought to vocal process.

"What, love? Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you. The sun, the moon, the stars, fucking say it and I'll find a way," he declares, his voice husky, his head buried in my neck as his hands caress gently up my arms until I release his hair and his fingers lace with mine. He presses my hands into the wood over my head and all that's holding me to the earth is his body, his rock hard, perfect body.

"Anything," he murmurs and I feel him shift. His jean-covered bulge brushes along my bare pussy and the block on my vocal chords shatters, my thoughts rushing out.

"Fuck me, fuck me until I'm so sore that I'll remember exactly what it feels like to have you deep inside of me when I'm missing you," I whimper, tears falling from my eyes against my permission. "Please, Edward, please."

His hands squeeze mine before he places both of my palms in his left hand and reaches between us to free himself from his jeans. I feel him nibbling at my neck and my eyes begin to roll as he slowly strokes my folds and clit with the head of his cock- forward, back, forward, back, the metal ball cold then warm, driving my stomach into flips and twists of pleasure.

"So wet, Bella, always so wet for me," he groans, his breath blowing across the overheated skin of my neck, making my body break out in chills.

"Only for you," I pant as I tilt my head back; reveling in the sensations of his lips kissing a trail up to the spot behind my ear and then, to my cheek until his eyes, so soft with love and drooping with lust, become level with mine.

"Come home to me," I whisper, more tears escaping me that I can't seem to stop.

"Always," he replies and his lips find purchase on my lips as he pushes inside of me, his hand coming up under the jersey and pulling down my bra so that he can run his thumb along my taut nipple.

The world is spinning and I don't know what way is up and what way is down, all I know is that he's holding me here, holding me to the fucking world, thrusting into me, and making me see stars. His lips leave mine and I can't help, but scream his name.

"Oh god! Edward!"

I tighten my legs around him and Edward lets out a growl.

"Yes, good girl, such a good fucking girl…"

His head flies back, his fingers pinch my nipple, and I feel myself stepping closer to the edge, my stomach coiling to spring.

"Fuck, harder!" I howl, digging my nails into the back of Edward's hand and a wicked grin flashes across his face as he pinches and pulls my nipple, slamming into me full force.

"Perfect, so perfect,"

His hand slides down my flat stomach to circle my clit and I see stars.

"Holy fuck! God, Edward, don't stop! Don't stop!"

"Oh god, never…this pussy," he circles my clit again as I moan out incomprehensible words. "This pussy was fucking made for my cock, Bella. Perfect…god, so perfect!"

He thrusts, harder and deeper and I can see his eyes rolling back, feel his movements getting wilder.

"Cum inside me, fill me, Edward. Fill me like a dirty little slut," I snarl and his cock stiffens as soon as the final word falls from my lips.

"God, I love you," he growls and kisses me roughly, pressing into me and sending me crashing into oblivion, my pussy throbbing and gripping onto his cock as I whimper how much I love him.

Minutes later, there's a knock on the door and Edward has to let me down and zip up his jeans. I put back on my panties and the black pants as I try not to cry.

He pulls me into his arms and kisses my forehead.

"No tears or goodbyes, just know I love you, okay?"

"I love you too," I sniffle, burying my head in his chest as he hugs me to him. After a second, harder knock, he releases me and opens the door.

"Edward Cullen?" Asks a young man with tan skin and a black suit. Edward nods. "I'm agent Quil Ateara and I'm going to need you to come with me, sir."

He lets the agent grab him by the arm and take him into the hallway. I follow, unable to stop the tears from flowing despite Edward's request and the agent's kind enough to stop in the hall for a moment.

"Oh, and nice jersey, even if it's not mine," Edward says, giving me a sad smile. "Leave it on while I'm gone, will you? I want everyone to know that you're with a Cullen at least."

I nod, give him a peck on the lips and the agent walks away with him. I'm able to watch until their completely gone before I tumble to the floor and become a sobbing mess. Thank goodness for small miracles.


	25. You're All Crazy

**Chapter 24**

**You're All Crazy**

"Some people never go crazy, What truly horrible lives they must live"~ Charles Bukowski

**KPOV(Kate)**

I watch Emmett help Bella onto the couch as she fights back tears. I can't help noticing that she doesn't flinch at the contact the way she did with Jake a week and a half ago. Then again, the last time I spoke with him, he said that she had made a lot of progress with her intimacy issues. At the thought of Jake, I let out a sigh. It's been only a little less than a week since Sam, the lead agent in the case, told me to back off from him. Still, it feels like ages. The fact that I miss him so much only corroborates what Sam claimed. He felt that I was getting too close and he was right. When Sam reassigned me to the three new informants, I lashed out, but I denied it had anything to do with my feelings for Jake. I argued that I liked my position; I liked having Emily and Leah around to watch my back in case something went wrong. Sam just laughed when I said that, he didn't believe my lies for shit. I can't say I'm surprised. They were horrible lies. Sam has read my background sheet and he knows I prefer working alone. I had to try though; I had to try to stay close to him.

I give myself a mental shake. It's so stupid; I can't be close to him, not as close as I want anyway. Besides, even if I could get closer to him in the physical sense, in the _romantic_ sense, our interaction would be based on a lie. Hell, our entire friendship is based on a lie. We needed the inside details on Toffee Coffee to prove Aro's been smuggling drugs through the business so Emily, Leah, and I, we're placed in Jake's path eight months ago in hopes that one of us would attract his attention. If he ever found out that, I doubt he would even be interested in me; he'd probably hate me. I know _I_ would hate me. It wouldn't be easy to love someone whose job at one time was to get information out of you.

That's what it all comes down to, the job, it's always about the job, and up until I met Jake, I've always been able to keep my feelings separate from my work. At one point, I actually had the opportunity to stop myself from falling deeper, but I didn't. When we found that he knew nothing, I fought to keep him around anyway, claiming he might be useful. That was also a lie, but a much better one that Sam believed and it let me keep Jake close. Lies, it's all a bunch of lies. Sometimes, I feel like my whole life is a lie.

"Um, Kate, do you think maybe we could get this over with while Bella's still somewhat functioning?" Alice asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I look up to see that Alice has her arm wrapped around Bella, who's gotten incredibly quiet. She has a tissue in her hand that she's using to dab at her eyes and I wish I could tell her that I know how she feels, but I don't, not really. The person she loves, loves her back and not because she told him a bunch of made up crap about her past, or gave him some phony reason for why she chose to attend medical school. The guy she loves actually knows her real last name.

_Fuck! Pull it together, Kate!_

"Oh, yes, of course," I reply, nodding my head in agreement as I mark Edward's tape with his assigned number and replace it with a fresh one. "This is testimony taken for the case against Aro Paolo Volturi by agent Katelynn Louise Denali, ID number 287-46A. Please state your full name for the record."

"Isabella Marie Swan," she snivels.

"Whenever you're ready, Ms. Swan, start with the first time you ever heard of Aro Volturi and I'll stop you periodically to ask questions."

"Well, the first time I heard of him was when Alice told me her story, but I discovered later on that he may have been involved with the death of my father, Charlie Swan." Alice hands Bella a glass of water and she pauses to take a sip before going on with the story. "Edward showed me a painting that he had done. The painting was of two pictures of me, one was with my father a few months before he died and the other was a photo of me that Ms. Penny had taken when I moved out. See, she always paid for a professional photo when one of her orphans left the home."

When I hear Bella say the word orphan, I can't help feeling as if something is off. I remember that I got the same feeling earlier when Alice mentioned Bella living in the girl's home with her, but I had been distracted because she had jumped to something more significant. Now, however, I can't seem to shake the feeling. I've read so many papers about these three in the last few days that it's hard to keep everyone straight, especially with all my thoughts on Jake, but regardless, I try to recall what I've read specifically about Bella as she continues to talk.

"Anyways, he told me that he saw Aro hand Tanya the photos and he overheard him tell her something like 'James is a dimwit; he can't even do a simple task.' I put the pieces together later and now I believe the same James with the blonde ponytail who smelled like alcohol in Alice's story was the man who tried to kidnap me when I was 12, the one who also shot and killed Charlie."

Why the hell would Aro want to steal a cop's daughter, one of his co-worker's children no less? That doesn't make any sense! We have suspicions that he's taken children, and of course, Alice's story earlier proves that for us finally, but the suspected kidnappings were all of unknown children, orphans and runaways with no family, no one to miss them, no fathers or mothers…mother! That's it! I never saw any paperwork on Bella's mother!

"Ms. Swan, what do you know about your mother?"

"My mother?" She questions with a start. "What…I-, I don't know, nothing really I guess. My father never liked to talk about her because I think it made him sad. He told me when I was young that she died giving birth to me, but never said much else about her."

No…no, that doesn't seem right. There was no death certificate or any report of complications in the hospital record and the orphanage file said something…God, what did it say? Stupid Jake, stupid distractions! UGH! All of a sudden, the mist in my mind clears and I can see the words in my head as sharp as if I'm reading them on the paper again.

_A close friend of Charlie, Harry Clearwater, claims Mrs. Swan ran off with another man shortly after child's birth. There were no records in the household to indicate the mother's whereabouts and contact was unable to be made. Child handed over to state custody._

Oh, fucking hell! Come on! Can't I get a break here?

I reach forward and shut the recorder off. It's bad enough that I have to do this; I don't want it recorded for everyone to hear.

"Are we done already?" Bella asks and I wish there was a way I could tell her yes. I wish I could continue to lie like everyone else in this damn world seems to do all the time, but the girl deserves the truth. Everyone deserves the truth once and a while, no matter how hard it is to hear.

"No, but there's something I need to tell you," I start, speaking as kindly as I can as I gaze at Bella's blotchy red face. She's sad, scared, and I'm about to shock the poor girl to death. "I know it's not a good time and I know you're upset and that this is just going to open up your brain to a thousand questions that may never be answered, but I have to tell you. I don't want to, trust me, I really don't…"

I take a deep breath and do the one thing that I know will make this easier, I slip into professional mode, separating myself as best as I can from the situation in my mind.

"I've spent the past couple of days, looking at every file I could get my hands on for you, Alice, and Edward, and in none of those files, was a death certificate for your mother. Nor was there any report of complications on your birth record. There was one bit of information I found, however, and I'm sorry, but I believe your father lied to you. There's testimony from one of his close friends that states that your mother ran off with another man shortly after you were born."

It happens so fast that for a moment, I don't think it happens at all, but the proof is hovering over top of me and my back is pinned to the floor. Bella's fist pulls back, her eyes are raging, and I have a feeling that I'm about to end up with a broken nose or some shit. All I can think about though is how much I deserve it. I've been lying for a long time with no repercussions; it makes sense that when I tell the truth, this would be what happens. The truth will set you free, my ass. The truth in these situations just plain fucking sucks no matter what side you're on, I know because I've been on both. I can see the hesitation in her eyes, the doubt.

"Just do it all ready!" I yell, the memory of my own rage two years ago coming to mind, how much I wanted to just hit him, but I couldn't. "It's not going to change anything! It's not going to make the truth any easier!"

Her fist trembles, her eyes water, and I see so much of the old me in her that I nearly start crying myself. I hold it back though, only to hear words coming out of my mouth that I never intended to say.

"It won't change the fact that she was a bitch for leaving, and it won't make you feel any less like shit because you were supposed to be important to her and she was supposed to love you. You know what it's really not going to change, the fact that you'll never feel like you were good enough and what makes it worse is when you find out that you weren't good enough, but her other two kids were. At least you weren't raised by a liar and his imposter wife who claimed you were theirs when really your mom left and took the other two kids with her, the ones she loved more than you! So do it, hit me, because it won't change shit! She's alive and she left, end of fucking story!"

I'm stunned into silence and my heart is racing, my breathing's heavy. I've never told anyone about that. Technically, I never even told the team, the only reason they know is because they were there when I found out. I had been pushing paperwork for months on Aro and when I pulled up the information on two new leads, Tanya and Irina, I was shocked as hell at what I found. It was only because of the fact that I never met them, never even knew of my sisters, that I got to stay on the team. All I wanted was to work this case so I could have the glory of bringing down that shit head Aro. That's still all I want. If my sisters fall or don't fall in the process, I could give a fuck less.

"You're a liar!" Bella screams, her eyes showing she doesn't even believe what she's saying and a crazy laugh escapes me because for once, I'm not lying.

I see the anger in her face as her fist flies forward and I shut my eyes. Finally, fuck, it's about damn time. Nothing happens, there's no pain, no cracking of bone and I can't feel any blood on my face. I open my eyes to see a hand grasping Bella's fists.

"Don't, Bella," Alice says softly. "You can't tell me that you honestly think she's lying, and she's right, it won't change anything."

Emmett helps Bella to her feet and I shut my eyes again, attempting to keep my tears at bay. Maybe it would have made me feel better or maybe it wouldn't have, but I really wish she had just hit me.

* * *

I stand next to Sam on one side of the two-way mirror, staring into the interrogation room of the F.B.I.'s Seattle detaining facility. An F.B.I. attorney, a woman with coco colored skin named Zafrina Taylor stands directly across a table from Edward, who's slouched in his chair and appearing as miserable as Bella was when I left yesterday, minus the tears. I'm pleased to see there's a middle aged, balding, man standing beside him in a freshly pressed blue suit. It seems he finally lawyered up like he should have earlier, good, there's no need for him to be a fucking martyr.

The man, who's oddly self-assured, reaches his hand across the table and Ms. Taylor shakes it politely.

"J. Jenks, we spoke over the phone."

"Of course, Mr. Jenks, please, have a seat."

Mr. Jenks sits in his chair as Ms. Taylor does the same. Ever diligent, she goes right to work, placing her briefcase on the table as she begins the discussion of our proposition.

"I've spoken with Agent Uley and Agent Denali and I'll just be frank, this is the deal we're offering for Mr. Cullen in exchange for his testimony in the trial of Aro Volturi."

She slips a small stack of papers across the table, but instead of reading the papers, Mr. Jenks simply glances at them without touching them and gives Ms. Taylor a look of indignation.

"A year long prison term with 5 years probation? That's hardly a deal, Ms. Taylor," He says and Edward's suddenly attentive, bolting upright in his chair, his eyes wide, shocked obviously at the thought of serving time. His eyes fall on Mr. Jenks and I suspect he's about to say something along the lines of 'You said you would get me out of this!', but the pudgy man holds his hand up in a gesture of silence. With a scoff, Edward complies and Mr. Jenks continues. "Not with the assistance my client can provide for your case, a case you've been working on for half a decade I might add. What about the address of the warehouse? We were in agreement that would also weigh in on this deal."

Ms. Taylor lets out a sigh, purses her lips, and places her hands on the table, folding them together.

"If he goes through with trial, the sentence could be anywhere from 5 to 7 years, depending on the judge, Mr. Jenks. One year is practically a slap on the wrist in comparison, and the address is two years old, it is of no use to the department. From what we've been able to gather, he changes locations frequently, about every two months or so."

Mr. Jenks leans in Edward's direction and it seems that their whispering to each other.

"What are they saying? My lip reading's no where near as good as yours," I tell Sam, and he gives me a smirk that reaches all the way to his eyes. "Yeah, I'm sucking up, so sue me. What the hell are they saying?"

"Let's see…'You're going to have to serve time. I can probably get her down to 6 months, but that's all I can do, unless you have something else. Think, Edward, anything, a name, a number?'"

A flash of recognition comes across Edward's face.

"Yes! A number! What if I could give you a number for Tanya Denali?" He blurts out and Mr. Jenks shakes his head as Ms. Taylor smiles in triumph. A desperate client makes for an easy deal.

I smack my forehead. Edward really isn't fucking thinking this shit through. Shut your mouth, you idiot! Let your lawyer talk for you before you fuck up your only deal.

"It depends, how old is the number?"

"Irina gave it to me last week at Toffee Coffee when she told me-"

"Not another word, Mr. Cullen!" Mr. Jenks cuts him off and signals for him to lean towards him. They go back to whispering.

"Sam, some help?" I ask and he groans in irritation.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, hold on a minute. Cullen's all excited, he's talking fast…ah, Irina told him to call Tanya so they could discuss a way to steal the last painting and when he didn't call, Mr. Cullen claims that Aro blew up his apartment building."

"You mean that explosion on Union and Central, he thinks it was Aro? Damn…if so, he's getting even gutsier these days."

"Yeah," Sam agrees, sadly. "I'll have to send Colin and Brady to check the place out."

Mr. Jenks grins at the new revelation and turns to Ms. Taylor.

"No jail time, 2 years probation and the number is all yours, Ms. Taylor."

She shakes her head and laughs.

"No deal. You and I both know that number could be for a disposable cell phone. Even if it's not for a disposable, it only gets us Tanya not Aro. My bottom offer is 6 months and 3 years probation with the number. Take it or leave it."

Edward whispers something to Mr. Jenks.

"Don't even ask, Denali. He was too fast for even me that time," Sam informs me, damn…

"Alright, what if I said I could get you Mr. Volturi on a silver platter," Mr. Jenks says with a wider grin than before. Now we're talking!

"I'd say talk is cheap, but if you could get him, that's the only way that I'd be willing to take your deal. No jail time, 2 years probation."

"You need hard evidence. All you have is a bunch of stories. You haven't even been able to get anyone on the inside, but Mr. Cullen already has an in. He'll wear a wire and a vest. He'll contact Tanya Denali, offer to steal the paintings, and forge them himself. He'll go in undercover to get the evidence you need to bring Aro in."

Ms. Taylor relaxes back in her chair as she considers the offer.

"We can't guarantee his safety,"

"Ms. Taylor." Edward addresses her with an expression that I can only describe as pure determination "As Helen Keller once said, 'Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure.' So, no, you can't guarantee my safety, the truth is safety may not even exist, but I know love does. I love my friends and family, I love my fiancée, and I don't want to live the next year or six months in a jail cell while they're cowering in fear of this guy. I want to be with the woman I love. If I can stay out of jail this way and protect them, make her at least _feel_ safe, than I have to do it because love is always worth the fight…Just let me try to fight."

My eyes are watering and my vision's blurry. This guy is fucking crazy. Aro will probably try to shoot him on sight, but it doesn't stop me from appreciating his passion. If being a little crazy about some one you love gets you to do something brave, something that you wouldn't normally have the strength to do…well, maybe being crazy isn't so bad.

"Alright…you have one week Mr. Cullen, make it count," Ms. Taylor replies, shaking his hand in agreement. "I'll have the paperwork drawn up ASAP and we'll get you in with one of the agents who will hook you up with gear and help guide you."

I choke back my tears and laugh.

"You have fun with that, Sam,"

He's quiet and when I look over at him, he's giving me a grin. Son of a bitch…why do I have to work with the crazy people?


	26. True Connections

**Chapter 25**

**True Connections**

"Just because you're family doesn't make you friends, nor does being friends make you family; it is not blood, but only true, unwavering love in the worst of times that can achieve that kind of connection."~ Me

**BPOV**

"Come on, Bella. You've been in bed since Kate left three days ago. You haven't wanted to talk, you haven't moved, and I've let you be, but this has to stop now. You need to get the hell out of this bed and you need to take a shower. Your hair looks like someone slathered it in grease and you're starting to smell." Alice tries to coerce me out of my nest of blankets by pulling on my arm, but all I want is to cry and maybe sleep when I can't cry and then, cry some more. Is that too much to ask?

My fiancé's in government custody and I've yet to talk to him or hear any news, my mom might still be alive when I thought she died birthing me, and Charlie was a big fat liar. Don't I deserve a break, a little R&R?

"No, I don't want to," I whine, pulling my arm away and burying myself back under the blankets. "Leave me alone."

God, I wish I had some alcohol, like hard ass liquor to knock me the hell out, but Alice won't let me near the liquor cabinet…stupid pixie.

"UGH!" Alice groans loudly in frustration. "That's it! You're getting out of this bed one way or another. Emmett!"

I hear Emmett's loud footsteps walking towards the bedroom and I grip onto the headboard to anchor myself. There's no way I'm going without a fight. No one's prying me out of this bed until I'm damn good and ready. Emmett lets out a sigh when he appears at the doorway.

"Leave me alone!" I yell. "I don't want to take a shower, I just want to sleep, damn it! You wouldn't let me punch that stupid bitch, Kate, so let me do this! I'm sure you'd want some alone time too if you were abandoned and lied to like I was. He was my father for Pete sake, and he let me think my mother was dead! I think that deserves some fucking wallowing!"

"Really, Bella, we're really going to do this the hard way?" Emmett asks and when I don't respond, he simply shakes his head. "Alright, fine."

He comes over to the side of the bed and I kind of want to growl at him. I wonder if this is what a dog feels like when its territory is being invaded. Did I just compare myself to a dog? My god, I must really be losing it. I feel Emmett wrap his arms around my waist and I grip on tighter to the headboard.

I can hear the sound of water running coming from the shower in the bathroom attached to the bedroom and a thought flickers in my mind, that's the last place Edward was, in our shower. My eyes water with the threat of tears as Emmett gives one good tug and pulls me free of my sanctuary. My hands don't even have the strength to hang on. Sobbing into his chest, I sway from side to side as he carries me like a rag doll into the bathroom. Alice is standing there when we step foot inside the pristine white room, with the little brown rug and towels that Edward said matched my hair. I cry louder.

I suspect Emmett will place me in the shower and Alice will strip me out of my clothes, but Emmett proves to be unwilling to let me go. He slides the glass shower door to the side and steps into the shower with me, exposing us both to the hot water. Through blurry eyes, I watch as the water drips on his shirt, turning it from a light blue to a dark blue. He sits down on the tiled floor of the shower, with me still in his arms, and I can hear the telltale noise of wet denim. The air is thick with steam, filling my lungs with moist heat while the water soaks through the jersey, black pants, bra, and underwear that I haven't taken off for days.

Alice goes to reach for the shampoo, and Emmett shakes his head at her.

"Let's just give her a minute," he whispers. I feel his strong hand smoothing down the hair on my head while I listen to his heart beat through his chest, the calm thumping rhythm relaxing me as the hot stream of water cascades down on us.

"You want to hear a story?" Emmett asks me and I nod dumbly against his chest as the tears slowly start to fade. "When we were all kids, our dad was still working at the hospital as a doctor and he worked really long hours. So every Saturday night, no matter how late it was when he got home, he would wake us all up and we would have story time in the living room while we drank hot cocoa and if worse came to worse, he would wake us up early before breakfast. At first, he would read to us, but when we got sick of reading the same books, we started to make up our own stories. We'd take turns telling different lines of the story and end up with a ridiculous tale about transformers who saved astronauts from giant meteors made of chewed gum, or superman traveling back in time to save the planet from singing dinosaurs that sang horribly off key and wore high top sneakers."

Alice snorts a laugh from her spot on the floor just outside the shower and Emmett chuckles softly.

"Anyways, one time when I was about 10, Edward was 8, and Jasper was 6, Dad didn't wake us up and the next day we were all so angry that we refused to speak to him. He told us that we were getting to old for that and as far as we were concerned, our dad was this horrible, cruel person."

A soft thud resonates from above as Emmett leans his head against the shower wall and lets out a sigh.

"We were young and we never thought about what Dad had to do at work, the choices he had to make, or the affect his decisions had on people…It was Edward who overheard him crying to our Mom, bawling his eyes out. He was scared and since I was the older brother, he ran to me for answers. He told me that Dad was sad that he had to let a little boy go the other night…he asked me why Dad would be so upset about letting a little boy go, wouldn't that be a good thing?"

He strokes my hair and I'm thinking it might be more for his own comfort than for mine.

"I didn't have an answer for him so I made up something, but I was determined to figure out the truth. I eavesdropped on my parents and listened to Dad talk about a little boy with leukemia, a patient he had watched suffer for years. That's how I learned about how horrible death can be, was by listening at the crack of a door while my dad told my mom about this little boy, only one year younger than me. He was sick constantly with all the chemo and one day, when he was really sick, my dad told him one of the stories we had made up, it had made him laugh for the first time in such a long time that my dad continued to share them with him. His retelling of those stories was the only thing that comforted Alec those final hours. My dad felt bad about using our stories like that, but it helped Alec and that was what mattered at the time, helping that poor boy. We never had story time again after that; it was too hard for him. We started to play cards instead…By the way, Jasper has an amazing poker face, don't ever play cards with him."

He reaches for the shampoo and I lift up my head to look at him with a confused expression.

"Was that supposed to make me feel better or worse?" I murmur sadly.

He shrugs his shoulders and squeezes some of the shampoo in his hand.

"I don't know. Maybe you should ask the kids down at Seattle Children's Hospital. I go there every Tuesday to have made up story time with them. You're free to come with me if you want." He lathers up my hair as a small smile curls up my lips. "The point of the story was to explain that all parents' lie to their children at one time or another, Bella. Sometimes it's just to protect them from the truth. I've never told Edward or Jasper why Dad stopped story time, they don't need to know, and it would just hurt them. From what I know about you, I can only bet the man that raised you was as kind and smart as you are and he probably never meant to hurt you by keeping the truth about your mother from you. You loved your dad when you thought he was perfect, but as time goes on, I'm sure you'll learn to love him even more because he wasn't. After all, in the end, it's our flaws that reveal our true nature."

Emmett smiles at me and sniffs the air.

"Hey, this strawberry shampoo smells really good,"

We all laugh at the randomness that is Emmett as he leans my head back to wash out my hair. Once he's done rinsing it out, he shifts me so that I'm on the floor and stands up.

"Alright, well, unless I'm going to see someone naked, I'm out of here," he declares, looking at Alice and me while he wiggles his eyebrows. We both shake our heads in denial. "Damn! I'm out then!"

He takes one of the brown towels and wraps it around his sopping wet form before making his exit while running a hand through his dripping hair. The gesture reminds me of Edward, but I force my sad thoughts back by considering the fact that he probably is worried about him too. I suddenly feel pathetic as I come to the realization that it's not all about me here, there's others suffering and I'm acting almost as bad as a child. Standing up, I strip out of my clothes and hand them to Alice as I let my different thoughts and feelings sink in and mingle.

"Could I have a minute?" I ask her and she gives me a questioning look.

"No more wallowing?" she asks. I shake my head.

"No, I think I should probably stop with the wallowing. It's bad enough that all this shit's going on. I'm only making it worse on everyone by being all whiny and bothersome like I am."

"It's not that it's bothering us to help you, Bella," Alice starts and I glare at her, causing her to amend her statement. "Okay, so it's not fun, but it's understandable that you're upset. I would be too. You can't continue to let life kick you around though at some point, you're going to have to kick back and we can't do that for you, no one can, all we can do is hold your hand and help you through it."

I thank her and she leaves to give me some space. As I wash up, I try to let my worries and sorrows slip down the drain with the water, to make myself stronger so that I can be helpful instead of a hindrance. With all my strength, I think of the good things about Charlie. I recall the time that he let me play with the siren on the cruiser and the time he let me skip school so we could spend the day on first beach, having a half-ass picnic and fishing. I laugh aloud at the thought of how he filled my bathtub one time and put blue food coloring in it, not knowing it would turn my body blue along with the water. He called me Smurfette for a month after that. Without warning, a strange thought overshadows my happy memory. I wonder if my mom was/is playful like that. Weird…I've never thought of my mom before, what she was like, who she was…Would she have freaked out in that scenario or would she have laughed it off. Would she have been a good mother at all?

The questions continue to build, stacking up and overflowing while I dry off and I remember what Kate said. 'This is just going to open up your brain to a thousand questions that may never be answered.' What good are questions without answers?

By the time I make it out into the living room, I have to slap a fake smile on my face because my thoughts are completely consumed by what-ifs and I have no one to talk about them with. Well, I could talk with Alice, but I'm sure it would just lead to a lengthy, sad conversation if I brought up my mom issues with her and the truth is that I really want to talk to Edward. I want him to be here to comfort me and make me feel loved, but I can't have that right now. He's locked away and at the very least, he's protected. It's time to make an honest effort to get the fuck over my own shit and learn how to deal with it in a constructive way. I'm tired of bringing everyone else down. Wait, what the-, where is everyone? The living room is empty even though I know they were all in here before Emmett dragged me into the shower. I heard them watching t.v.

"Hello?" I call out into the apartment. "Where the hell is everybody?"

"They went to get us some Italian for dinner," Alice replies from behind me, causing me to squeal in shock and grasp my chest. She cracks a smile. "No one felt like cooking."

My heart pounds in my chest and I have to lean over, resting my hands on my knees to catch my breath.

"Don't ever do that again!" I manage to choke out, trying to slow my frantic heart.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you…It was fucking funny though," she adds the last part with a grin and giggles a little. The doorbell rings and Alice claps her hands excitedly. "Yay! He's here!"

"It was not funny. You could have been Irina with a knife here to cut me up into tiny pieces-," I pause in confusion, her words finally making it through the effects of the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. "Wait, who's here?"

"Jake, he's bringing over stuff so we can make cupcakes."

"Ugh," I groan. "I don't want to make cupcakes, Ali."

Alice's smile turns down into a frown.

"Well, excuse me for thinking that I should invite him over to help in operation 'Make Bella Stop Depressing Everyone with Her Issues When Our Lives Already Suck'."

"Okay, all right, I'll make the stupid cupcakes," I sigh, rolling my eyes. Her smile comes back and I get a slight jolt of happiness when I notice I'm able to make her feel happy. Maybe I just need to fight, that's all, fight to let the bad stuff go and enjoy the little things. Isn't that what life is about, enjoying the good moments? I point a finger at her "As long as they're chocolate? They're chocolate, right?"

"Well, duh, of course they're chocolate! What do I look like a complete moron?" She feigns hurt and pulls me to the door with a slight skip in her step as the doorbell rings again.

"Jeez! I'm coming, I'm coming!" Alice yells, peers through the peephole, and throws open the door. "Jak-"

Her joyful greeting dies in her throat at the sight in front of us.

"I swear, I didn't know, I didn't know they were following me. I'm sorry, fuck, I'm so sorry!" Jake pleads. There are three people with him. To his right stands a huge man dressed in black, holding a gun to his midsection under a long trench coat, and to his left are two women, one I know very well and one I suspect I know all about.

"Ah, Bella, Alice, so good to see you two again," Irina says, her blue/green eyes alight with sinister glee. "Oh! I don't think you've had the pleasure of meeting my sister, Tanya. Although, I'm sure you've had the pleasure of her handiwork with Edward."

"Such a pity he had to go and get himself shot," says the strawberry blonde next to her with a pout. My eyes narrow on the too-perfect girl with the never-ending legs, scarlet lips, curly hair, and the same blue/green eyes as her sister. "Oh? Did I hit a nerve with the girlfriend…my bad."

The girls cackle and a second shot of adrenaline releases into my system. I lunge for her, but feel Alice's fingers tighten around my arm as Jake lets out a grunt of pain.

I notice the guy digging the gun farther into Jake's side and I stop in my tracks.

"Now, now, we don't need another gun shot victim. Irina has a thing for him after all." Tanya giggles. "I personally don't get it, I like my men docile. They're much easier to control that way."

"Oh, you can't tell me you wouldn't like to take a ride on this beefcake?" Irina counters, running her pointer finger down his chest. "Maybe, I'll let you try him after I'm done."

"Don't you fucking touch me, you bitch!" Jake growls before hissing in pain at the gun being jammed into his side again.

"He's boring me already," Tanya says with a yawn. "Let's just get on with this."

"Okay, more for me," Irina shrugs.

They step forward into the apartment and as Irina reaches to grab my arm, Tanya grabs Alice and pulls us apart. I feel the sharp poke of a needle and then the cold burning of medicine.

"Nighty-night," Irina coos.

I'm not sure at the moment, whether I'm going to live or die, but surprisingly the only thing I can think of is the others and finally Edward, not about me or my problems, but simply of what I will miss if I die or lose a single one of my friends, who have become my family. Alice reaches for my hand and I'm able to grasp it just as my legs give out and I fall to the floor, into a deep, drug-induced, sleep.


	27. Justice in the Name of Love

**Chapter 26**

**Justice In the Name of Love**

"Justice and power must be brought together, so that whatever is just may be powerful, and whatever is powerful may be just."~ Blaise Pascal

**EPOV**

My hands are numb from painting for so long. Sweat beads on my face as I swipe the final curve. I look at the original and compare the line on my copy. It's perfect. Breathing out a sigh of relief, I place the paintbrush down and rest my head in my hands. I'm exhausted, both mentally and physically, but the thought of her has kept me going, just as she always has. Only now the images I see of her are memories, the scents I recall are real, and the tastes that mysteriously linger on my tongue are tauntingly accurate. The last few days have been excruciating without her. I've managed of course, knowing that what I'm doing is the right thing. Still, it's hard when I can't pick up a phone and talk to her or crawl into a bed and wrap my arms around her as we sleep. Sleep…my eyes wander to the corner of my small, white room and the thought of lying down on the single mattress on the metal frame is divine. With a groan, I walk over and collapse on top of the bed as it lets out a squeak. I'm asleep before the room even goes silent again.

"Hey, get up!" Kate declares as she shakes me awake. She smiles when she looks over at the painting and back at me. "Today's the day, lover boy. I was worried that you might not be able to get it done in time. You work fast, Cullen. Hell, you've only been painting for two days."

I nod my head, letting out a yawn. A small part of me wishes I could go back to sleep and continue the wonderful dream I was having about Bella. While the other part of me knows, the reality of having her marry me will be so much better. I just have to do this first, complete this one stupid, extremely dangerous, possibly fatal thing first.

Kate begins going over the plan for the billionth time. I don't even bother to listen because I could repeat practically word for word what she's saying. The news will be running a fake story this morning about the painting being stolen from the museum. The identity of the thief will be shown as a masked man my size and height. I'll call Tanya in a few short hours and claim that I have the painting for Aro. With a little convincing, I should be able to get her to set up a meeting with him to discuss the possibility of recruiting my future services in exchange for my life. I'm not to mention Bella or Alice in any way, shape, or form. It's bad enough that Irina already knows the truth, if she's told Aro about my girlfriend the plan could already be compromised. Kate and Sam think it's dangerous enough sending me in there when he might have that information, but I won't take no for an answer. They both know I'm determined to do this now, with or without their help.

They'll put me in a bulletproof vest because I can pull it off with a coat on since its cold out and then, they'll hook me up with equipment that will record audio and video. If either of the feeds fails, I won't have any way of knowing or checking it so hopefully, that doesn't happen. As an informant, I'm not allowed to carry a weapon, and in the event of my life being threatened, I'm pretty much fucked as well. The bottom line is they can't go in until Aro has either taken an attempt on my life, harmed me or someone else, or I have enough evidence to charge him with a felony. Information on any of his minions' misdeeds is of course helpful, but in the end, that's not what I'm there for. I need 100% proof that Aro is behind something big.

By the time Kate's done blabbing, my mind is conjuring up thoughts about Bella, what she might be doing, how she's coping right now. The agency can't afford to staff any of the agents on security detail, but I know Kate calls Alice every night to do a check in and I have a feeling that if anything major happened to Bella, she would tell me. She's not much for giving me everyday info on Bella though. Whenever I ask about her, Kate just rolls her eyes and sighs. Still, it doesn't stop me from trying.

"How's Bella doing?"

As I expected, she rolls her eyes and sighs, irritation in her features.

"Why do you always do that when I bring her up?" I complain, lacing up my shoes while I stifle a yawn. "I love her; I just want to know that she's all right."

"Because you should be focusing on the head on your shoulders right now, not the one in your pants. Today is a big day and we don't have time to chat about the latest gossip. As soon as this is over, I'll be more than happy to set aside some time for us to have a slumber party so we can talk about your period and that cute boy you have a crush on in biology class. I'll even order us pizza and we can have a pillow fight." She stalks over to the door and holds it open, impatiently. "Until then, let's try and stay focused, okay?"

She's witty, I'll give her that, but that doesn't hide the edge of sadness in her voice. Not only can I hear it, I can see it in her aqua eyes. I don't have to be a rocket scientist to figure her out. She has that same look whenever Sam brings up Jake. I grab my canvas and pause for a moment in the doorway to look at Kate.

"I'm sorry that you miss him," I tell her. She purses her lips and nods her head, a gesture of understanding and an apology of her own.

I readjust my Kevlar vest over my undershirt one more time before putting on my black button down shirt and my black leather coat. The vest is surprisingly lighter than I thought it would be, somewhere around three to five pounds. The fact that a vest only 8mm thick is strong enough to stop a bullet from killing me is something I have a hard time fathoming so I try not to think about it. I also try not to think about how not so bullet proof my legs are in these jeans.

"So the lens for the video camera is concealed in the third button down on your shirt," Kate points to the laptop screen and waves her hand in front of my shirt to show the visual. "The microphone for your audio is hidden in your watch."

She grabs my arm, pulls up my sleeve a few inches to reveal the new metal watch, presses a button on the side, and releases my wrist.

"Testing," she says the word at normal volume and it echoes back through the speakers on the laptop.

The van hits a bump and I have to shift my feet to stay standing.

"Jesus!" Kate gasps, trying to hold herself up by grabbing the table the laptop's strapped to. "Could you try not to kill us please, Seth? There are already enough people trying to do that."

"Sorry," calls the young agent from up front, who can't be any older than 19. "It was a pothole. Damn government, what do they use the money for if not to fix the roads?"

He turns his head to look in our direction with a grin as a few strands of dark brown hair fall in front of his tan face. I shake my head and let out a nervous chuckle.

"The road, Seth, watch the road!" Kate snaps.

"Yeah, yeah," Seth grumbles, turning his head back.

Kate and I look at each other and I'm pretty sure she's almost as freaked out as I am, and not just about Seth's horrible driving skills. Her eyes are wide with worry as we pull into a parking lot where my car is parked.

"Ready?" Kate asks and I breathe deeply, trying to calm my nerves.

I have about a dozen answers for her and not one of them includes the words yes, yep, or of course.

"Fuck no, but it's not like I have a choice," I respond as she opens up the back door of the van.

"There's always a choice, Cullen. You could run, you could take the pussy way out and serve the jail sentence. Six months isn't that bad and she'd never know. It's not like anyone's making you do this," she offers, her eyes taking on that sad expression again.

"You're wrong; I'm making me do this. She is what I want and I won't let anything keep me from protecting her or loving her." I rest my hand on Kate's shoulder and lock eyes with her. "Think about it, if love isn't worth fighting for, what in life is? What else in life is as wonderful as curling up to watch a movie with someone you care about or being able to hold on to someone when it's dark and you're scared? It's what makes us feel alive."

I give her a smile as she looks at me as if she's trying to decipher my words.

"See you later, Kate," I say, releasing her shoulder, grabbing my canvas, and jumping out of the van. After placing the painting in the trunk, I walk over to the driver's side and open the door.

"Hey, Cullen?" Kate calls out to me.

"Yeah?"

I peer over and see her hanging out the van with her hand on the handle.

"Maybe you're not so crazy after all," she says, her expression one of optimism.

"Let's hope not because crazy people normally die doing this shit." I laugh apprehensively and climb into my car. I give her a wave before I drive off into the setting sun, headed towards the address I've memorized since my short conversation with Tanya earlier.

It was a lot easier than I thought to get her to set up a meeting with Aro. In fact, I'd dare to say that Tanya was even nice when she heard my request. That scares me more than it soothes me though. Tanya isn't exactly known for her kindness or her trustworthiness. When I get to the warehouse, my heart is already pounding vigorously. I have the image of Bella in her white dress practically burned into my eyelids in an attempt to remind myself why I'm doing this because the thought of walking up to that metal door is absolutely terrifying. I'm not looking forward to seeing Tanya face-to-face, knowing how much I hate her and how I have to pretend to be nice. It was easy over the phone, but I think she'll notice if I start gritting my teeth or balling my hands into fists that I'm not being truthful.

Before I can have the opportunity to second-guess myself, I step out of the car, the image of Bella in that white dress pushing me forward. My hand rises when I reach the metal door and I try to suck in all my courage, my bravery, my love in one deep breath.

The door opens and there she is, looking just as frighteningly too perfect as I remember.

"Eddie, baby," she coos, leaning forward to kiss my cheeks on both sides.

I do my best to smile even as the bile works its way up my throat at the scent of her overly priced Chanel No. 5 that she practically douses herself in.

"Good to see you, Tans."

I'm a better actor than I thought because the words come out calm and easy, when on the inside I'm holding back the urge to punch her in the face. I would never hit a lady, but Tanya Denali is no lady so it's an honest effort not to smack her around a bit.

"Follow me." She winks and saunters inside.

I grab my painting and follow her down a finished hallway, which holds rooms that would be offices normally, it appears there are people living here though because there are signs on the doors and when we walk past an open door, I can see beds and furniture, even brightly painted walls. Tanya stops at a room and gestures for me to walk in; it's not until I'm inside that I realize where she's taken me. It's a bedroom…her bedroom. She takes the painting from me and sets it against a wall before taking a seat on a large yellow bed, her short black skirt getting even shorter with the movement. The bedroom is lit in a light pink hue by a lampshade and I have a sudden feeling she doesn't intend to take me to Aro, I don't even think she ever intended to take me to him.

"I thought you were taking me to Aro? Won't he be upset if I don't show?" I ask.

"He's…busy at the moment actually. Besides, he knows I can be very distracting," Tanya says, her voice over-laced with sultriness, her blue/green eyes twinkling with mischief. A shrill woman shouts echo through the overhead vent in the room.

"How dare you disobey me, you filthy little mongrel!"

I've heard those shouts before, from the window of my old apartment; that's Irina's voice. There's a whipping sound followed by a manly howl of pain.

"YOU CRAZY BITCH!"

I have a hard time controlling my shock at hearing Jacob's voice, but my surprised expression plays in my favor when Tanya notices it and starts to cackle.

"Oh, Eddie, don't worry about that. Irina's just breaking in her new slave. It appears the beefcake is quite a handful. I wish she'd gag him already, but she likes the screaming, says it turns her on." She shrugs. "To each their own."

She stands up on the bed, swaying her hips as she closes the vent and I'm hoping that she falls and cracks her head open, but no such luck. Even with the vent closed, I can still hear Irina's shouts and Jacob's screams, they're just muffled. She hops down and saunters over to me.

"Now back to what I was saying, I thought you said it's good to see me," Tanya says, gripping onto the collar of my jacket and pulling me towards the bed. "I just want you to show me _how good_ it is to see me and then, I'll take you to see Aro."

She smirks at me and sits back on the bed, releasing my jacket so she can unbutton her tight white shirt. She was never one for subtlety. She's not even wearing a bra. There's no way I'm sleeping with Tanya, not even if someone holds a gun to my head.

My mind, which has run a blank up until this point, finally comes to and my lips curl up in a grin, not at the sight of her surgically enhanced tits, but at the idea that formulates in my mind.

"Well, as long as it won't upset Aro. There really is so much I'd like to show you," I agree, pulling off my coat. Her eyes light up, but when she tries to reach for me, I grab her wrists. If she feels the Kevlar, it's all over. A simple little caress of that bulletproof vest and I'm finished. "Ah, ah…no touching. Just let me show you what I've learned, sugar."

Using her old pet name makes my stomach knot with disgust. Luckily, her eyes are too glazed over with lust to notice my cringe. Placing her hands flat on the bed, I gently pull the sleeve of her white shirt down her right arm while I lean forward to blow my breath across her ear.

"I've learned how to make a woman quiver," I breath, slipping her right arm out of the shirt, forcing my eyes to stay shut. She lets out a moan and I have to suck in a breath to keep my composure. Please don't let me throw up! I begin to work her left arm out of the shirt. "I've learned how to make a woman cum so hard that she sees heaven."

"Eddie," she whimpers, breathing heavily as I pull her completely free of the fabric.

"I've learned how to dominate a woman." I whisper, wrapping the shirt around her wrists.

"OH!" She squeals and I knot the sleeves several times, pushing her back onto the bed.

I start to sweat with discomfort as I straddle her waist and slide her up towards the headboard, but all my effort pays off once I get her tied to it. I notice a sock on the dresser and I reach for it, shoving it in her mouth as her eyes widen with surprise.

"You know what else I've learned, Tanya?" I ask her, pulling myself up from her bed. "I've learned that you're a selfish bitch who thinks only about herself and I love a woman who's a million times better than you'll ever be. Oh, and you're the stupidest bitch on the planet for letting me tie you up."

"FUCK YOU!" Another muffled howl from Jacob reminds me of Kate, poor Kate stuck watching this all happen…shit!

Sorry, Kate. I grab the button that holds the camera lens and pull it off. I can't have this recorded. Tanya's eyes turn bright with anger and I stifle a laugh as I start riffling throw her nightstand drawer to find it. I know she's just the type to keep one lying around so she could seem hard-core and badass when in reality she's just a manipulative bitch. Yes! My hand wraps around the butt of the gun. Before I even have the chance to threaten Tanya for information though, I hear the blood-curdling scream of an angel, Bella… Tanya appears smug even with the sock still in her mouth. She knew; she knew that fucking bastard had her. I can't help it, my emotions are ragged, and my heart is cracking into pieces. My hand smacks hard into Tanya's face, making her wail.

"If she dies your next," I growl as the red mark appears on her face. I don't even bother to enjoy the look of fear in her eyes; instead, I race out of the room, guided by Bella's screams, my face wetting with tears of rage and sorrow.

**KPOV (Kate)**

I can barely see straight when I hear Jacob's screams. He's in pain and I know he would never be there on purpose, never. I'm dialing Sam's number as fast as possible while still watching the video feed, my eyes swelling with tears. He answers on the first ring.

"Do we have the go ahead?"

"It's Jake, Irina has Jake and he's screaming, he's in pain," I tell him, fighting back my emotions with every bit of my strength. "We have to help him."

"What about Aro, is there anything on Aro?" Sam counters and I know he's not going to go in, not until they have information on Aro, proof of his involvement.

"No," I mumble. "But its Jake…please, I can't, I can't sit back and listen."

"I'm sorry, Kate, but we can't go in until we have Aro. Going in now would jeopardize everything we've worked for, everything _you've_ worked for. The answer is no."

The phone cuts off and I slam my fist against the steel table.

I hear another muffled scream overshadowed by Edward's whispered words and I clench my teeth. I have no idea how he's keeping his composure, but he's doing an amazing job, being so levelheaded and smart...wait a minute. I watch as he ties Tanya up to the bed and as he loses control, I feel my own control waver. There's another muffled howl and the video goes black…Control is lost. I won't sit back while Jake dies, I can't, but I need help.

I pick up my phone again and dial Alice's number, but am surprised to hear Jasper answer.

"How could you let this happen?" He's seething in anger.

"What?" I question, completely baffled.

"My girlfriend and Bella, they're gone! We went to get dinner and when we got back, the front door was wide open! You said that we would be safe here!"

Apparently, Edward and Helen Keller were right. Safety is a crock of shit. Son of a bitch, what am I going to do? I hear something come through the audio…it's a scream followed by the growls of a very pissed off Edward.

"Meet me outside with Rose and Emmett in five minutes. I think I know where they are, but I need your help."

I end the call and rush to the front of the van.

"Move, Seth," I snarl, yanking him out of the driver's seat when he sits there, dumbfounded. "I'm driving, you listen to the feed."

This is going to cost me my job, my life, everything. It's official, I'm crazy…this love shit better be fucking worth it.


	28. Letting it Go

**Chapter 27**

**Letting It Go**

"To live in this world, you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go."~ Mary Oliver

**BPOV**

My eyes open slowly, blinking once, twice, three times before opening completely. The light overhead is so bright it feels almost blinding as I adjust to it, taking in my surroundings. I assume the room is large, but I can only see a small section of it with the light. There's a chair to my left and there are pipes running where walls might normally be, almost like an unfinished basement has. My skin breaks out in goose bumps, it's cold and the night shirt and pajama pants I'm wearing are doing little to keep me warm. I try to move my arms to wrap them around myself, but when I shift them, I hear the clank of metal on metal. Craning my neck, I see why. They're held behind my back and handcuffed around a thick, metal support pole, a pole that I'm sharing with another person…Her arms are crisscrossed underneath of mine at the elbow so that our hands rest at the swells of each other's backs. Out of my peripheral vision, I can see some of her black hair.

"Ali?" I choke out the word as tears build in my eyes. She's not moving. Did they give her too much of the drug? Is she dead? With a little maneuvering, I'm able to rub the back of my hand along her lower back. Her body seems warm and when I rest my hand flat on her back, I can feel her breathing. She's alive, at least for now. The thought seems to give me my strength back. We have to get out of here.

"Ali, wake up," I hiss, pushing against her back. There's a groan from her and I push again. "Wake up!"

She groans a second time as I hear noise coming out of the surrounding darkness, the sound of shoes hitting the concrete floor.

His foot emerges first, a black leather shoe. Then, his black pants and his black suit jacket with its black shirt underneath. Of course the devil doesn't wear red, how cliché would that be. I let out a mental snort, my nerves hardening like steel as I come eye to eye with him. They say the eyes are the windows into someone's soul. Well, his eyes are dark, so dark I can't see any color in them at all. I suppose it makes sense that the devil wouldn't have a soul. His hair is dark and long, and his face is immaculate, regal, and refined. He has to be over 40, but he looks timeless in a way. I suppose plastic surgery can have that effect. His face lights up like a kid in a fucking candy store when he sees me, a huge grin lifting his lips, but I keep my cool. I won't let this asshole know he has any effect on me.

"So I finally get to meet you, Aro," I say, shrugging my shoulders. "Normally, people greet each other with a handshake, but I'm sure you understand why I can't, what with the handcuffs and all."

I raise my hands and smack the handcuffs against the bar in a gesture of annoyance.

"Although, I doubt I'd want to shake your hand anyway, I'd probably just sock you in the face so this works."

He laughs and clasps his hands together in amusement. Alice lets out another groan and my attention is brought immediately to her. I feel her arms move, hear the clank of the metal, and her gasp when she sees where we are. In an effort to calm her, I rest my hand on her back, soft and reassuring.

"Ah, Ms. Brandon, so nice of you to join us," Aro announces, walking over in her direction, out of my line of view.

The sound of Alice spitting makes me want to cheer, but the smack that accompanies it is less than appealing. Alice growls softly and I feel her fingers grazing my back in search of comfort. I press into her back with my own hand and I'm aware of the thankful sigh that leaves her body.

When Aro appears in my line of sight, he's wiping spit from his face with a handkerchief. Alice is either crazy or awesome. I can't decide which. I think I'll go with both.

"Nice," I say with a smug expression. "I'm so giving you a high five in my head right now, Ali."

Alice lets out a crazy laugh as do I. Okay, so we're both fucking crazy. Whatever...in this situation, it's probably best if we're out of our minds with insanity anyway.

Aro purses his lips and his eyes narrow in our direction. I can only suspect what he might see, but if it's what I think, I can understand why he's pissed. He's trying to scare us and we're both laughing and grinning as if we've won the lottery. For a moment, I think he's going to shoot flames out of his nose he's so angry, and that's when his expression changes to one of evil glee.

"You know, you two remind me of someone…perhaps you'd like to meet her," He says with a grin. "Felix, bring her in!"

I don't know who the hell I expect to come out of the darkness this time, but it's not her…never her. She looks so different from the one picture I've seen of her, she's thinner and older, covered in scars, and her dark brown hair rests limply against her face, her gray eyes look lost. She's wearing just a cut up, dirty white t-shirt and loose black shorts, even her legs have welts, bruises, and deep scars. I don't quite understand how she could take that type of pain and still be alive with how frail she is. The large man walking up with her is the same one who held Jake at gunpoint and his palm can wrap all the way around her bicep without a problem.

The gasp that I make sounds almost like an echo as Aro sits her in the empty chair. She looks like she wants to cry, but she's holding it in and I don't know what to say or think. I never expected to see her, until a few days ago I would have thought I was seeing a ghost if I had.

"Ah, Renee, such a good girl you are," Aro coos, stepping over to pet her hair. "See ladies, you should be like your mother here. She knows when to shut her mouth. It took years of training of course, but the bitch finally listens."

Did he just say…no…

"Bella? She can't be-, it can't be possible, can it?" Alice calls out to me in shock

"I-, I don't know," I murmur in confusion.

"BE QUIET!" Aro screams, his eyes practically pulsating with the level of his anger and we both go silent. My head is swimming, the facts mixing until I can't even separate them, it's just a bunch of jumbled words in my mind. Aro smiles and grasps onto Renee's jaw, locking her eyes with his. "Why don't we tell them your little story, shall we? It is _so_ interesting, isn't it?"

"Yes, master," she says in a raspy voice, a tear slipping down her face.

"Well, make it snappy, Renee, we have other things to do today," he says the last words softly, staring over in our direction and a knot forms in the pit of my stomach.

It's one of those times again that I wish I could plug my ears and sing a song. However, I'm far too curious not to listen. I grasp the back of Alice's shirt and she latches onto mine. We'll get through this together, whatever she says, whatever happens, together…

"I-, I didn't know what to do," Renee starts, her eyes dropping to her lap almost as if she can't bear to look at our faces. "I loved Charlie, but I was bored with my life. We were high school sweethearts and he wanted to get married. I agreed because I cared about him, but soon after we got married, I got pregnant and I didn't want to be a mother. You could say I was never really the maternal type."

I try not to let her words hurt me, but they do. I hear Alice scoff and I imagine what it would be like to have actually been raised, even for a brief time, by a woman who didn't want you...I wish I could squeeze Alice's hand, but I have to settle for tugging on her shirt to show my empathy for her, she tugs back.

"When I met Phil Dwyer, it was a couple months after Bella was born and Charlie was working late every night. Phil was rough around the edges, with black hair and teal eyes, a lot different from my husband. We decided to run away together. I took a fake name so Charlie wouldn't come looking for me. Brandon was what I decided on."

Aro lets out a dreary sigh and smiles, leaning his weight on the back of Renee's chair.

"Such a wonderful mother, isn't she kids? Oh, it gets better. Tell them what happened next, Renee." He pets her hair and another tear slips out, splashing onto her shirt.

"I got pregnant a few weeks after we moved to Chicago and Phil changed. He-, he started beating on me and doing drugs. It was the drugs that got him put away." She sniffles and a small part of me feels bad for her, a very, VERY small part. "After he got locked up, I had no way of keeping myself stable. I didn't have a job, or insurance, or even a home at the time and I was too stubborn to go crawling back to Charlie so I took up prostitution."

Alice groans in disgust and Renee cringes as Aro laughs. Renee is silent for a few moments and Aro holds his watch in front of her face.

"The more time you take the worse it will be, Renee," he says with a smile and her tears spill over in streams as she begins to babble.

"I-, god-, I had Alice and the reminder was too much. I remembered what I had given up and it hurt so much to look at her and see my old life. I…I started doing coke and I somehow kept myself going for years, sleeping with different men, snorting my coke, while keeping Alice fed. I cared for her, but I hated her too, for always being there, always as a reminder! Then, Aro offered me all the coke I could want, a life of luxury in exchange for my servitude. He knew I made good money and I would work the streets as his whore. I was weak, I agreed…"

She begins crying harder, her face soaking in tears.

"Wow, what a winner…so glad you left me in that fucking motel," Alice says, revulsion in her voice, and Renee snaps.

"Good, you should be! What do you think saved your fucking life? What Aro really wanted was you so that he could sell you, and when I found out, I ran back to Seattle, but I couldn't make myself see Charlie so I did the best I could, I left you in that motel room to save you! I'm a horrible mother and I didn't love you two as I should have. The truth is I'm not good enough for either of you, but isn't it something that I know that, that I accepted that fact?"

Alice goes quiet and I don't know what she could be feeling right now. All I know is I feel completely torn. I hate her, I love her, I'm disgusted by her and yet I wish she would stop crying, I wish I could make her feel better…I can't decide if I'm just being weak or what, but I understand where she's coming from. The woman cared for us, maybe not enough to love us, but at least enough to do what was best for us. Leaving is the one thing she gave us…it was what we both needed.

When neither Alice nor I talk, Aro chuckles softly.

"It seems it's not enough, Renee, and really can you blame them? You're the reason why they're here now, the reason why they lost their beloved caretakers. If it weren't for you making that scene in Chicago, we never would have found them and all because you couldn't take your punishment for getting rid of Alice…you just had to be selfish."

Aro looks over at us with an almost ah-ha look on his face.

"Oh, dear, they have no idea what I'm talking about. I suppose I should enlighten them about things." He gazes at Renee and taps his watch. "We still have a little bit of time."

Renee continues to sob as Aro strokes her hair.

"Tsk, tsk…you used to be so strong, Renee, so full of fire. You're mother here has always been my best whore so I couldn't simply kill her for making me lose Alice, my clients wouldn't have appreciated that, I had to punish her instead. I kept her on a short leash, giving her just enough coke to keep her going, but not enough to feed her fix. She got greedy though, girls, complaining about wanting more and when I wasn't willing to give it to her she started stealing from my clients…terrible thing to do when your clients are the mafia."

I watch his eyes grow angrier as he speaks, every word heightening his rage.

"She was a selfish little twit and she cost us our territory!" He growls, latching onto her hair and yanking it back as she whimpers. "The mafia threatened to rat me out to the feds unless I left Chicago. I've been keeping her locked up ever since for it. A limited amount of coke for an addict will do wonders on their spirit and I had to punish her somehow because I'm afraid I became far too angry to just kill her, she's been much more fun to torture."

He lets go of her hair.

"Stay," he tells her and walks away from her chair. "She's so obedient now too."

When there's no reaction, Aro shakes his head and smiles.

"But what am I thinking; you don't care about that of course, back to the story. I switched precincts and came here. I found Charlie…what a sensitive guy he was, keeping a picture of his ex-wife on his desk like that, even after she ran away. Was he a good daddy, Bella? I'm afraid I didn't know him all that long."

My fingers ball up in a fist around Alice's shirt as I growl in his direction, my arms pulling on the handcuffs.

"Such anger and hostility," he admonishes. "Would it make you feel better if I told you that I told James not to kill him because I did…he was of course too much of a dimwit to do what I asked. He was supposed to bring you to me so that I could make Renee suffer more because Renee has started to shut of her emotions and I needed a way to get her hurting again. James got selfish too though, trying to leave that stupid ransom note and get money out of Charlie."

He rubs his hand across Renee's cheek and she cringes.

"Why is it that you are all so selfish, hm?" he asks, smacking her cheek a few times. "I give you money and drugs and all you do is give me issues, every last one of you! Even Victoria, my prized pupil, wouldn't do what I asked! I told her to kill James for his failure, but she begged and pleaded that she would do anything to keep him alive. I gave her money and time, so much time to find you, Bella, and by the time, she located Ms. Penny you we're already gone, GONE!"

He throws his hands up in the air and looks towards Alice.

"I would have killed them both for her failure, but she got lucky because she found you, Alice, my long last Alice." He smiles a beaming, devilish grin. "I found out you were still a virgin and you were going to get me a pretty penny on Special Menu Night and it would have been a joy to have your mommy watch that, but you got away. Did you know that you were the first one to ever get out, Alice?"

He walks towards us, his voice starting to have that tenor of crazy in it.

"I killed Marcus and Caius for that mistake. They were always in the way…brothers. HA! They were idiots! As for Victoria and James? Well, they had an unfortunate accident while setting up a bomb at Bella's little boyfriend's place. Oh, speaking of which, Tanya's with him right now, Bella, so sorry about that. He seems to want to switch sides on you. No loyalty these days I tell you."

The look on my face must be one of absolute doubt.

"Don't believe me? See for yourself." He pulls out what looks like a cell phone and shows me the screen, on it is video, video of Edward sliding off Tanya's top…I start crying, unable to hold back my tears until something clicks inside of me. Edward was in custody, he couldn't have escaped! He has to be playing for the other side! They must know; they must be getting ready to move! I try my best to keep the tears flowing, in an effort to hold my poker face as I rub my hand across Alice's back in a way that I hope she realizes means I'm fine.

The alarm on Aro's watch goes off and his eyes light up.

"It's time," he says as he pulls a knife from his pants pocket, Alice and I both gasp. "Damn…I forgot to mention this part, didn't I?"

Aro laughs a deep, bellowing laugh.

"Renee here gets to choose which one of you dies or I'm just going to kill you both..."

He turns towards Renee as my heart starts pumping. We just need some time, a little bit of time for them to get here, but I can't let Alice suffer, I can't, not after all she's gone through. I'd take it all for Alice, my sister, my best friend. I'd take the pain for Edward, my lover, my rock. I'd do it for every fucking one of them, my friends, my family, my love. They're all that matters. 'I finally understand you, Charlie!' I shout the words in my head. 'I get it!'

"I-, I can't!" Renee cries. "I can't choose! Don't make me do this!"

I can see it in her eyes, the fear, she knows he'll do it and I know he'll do it. The question is how fast will he do it? Will he drag it out long enough for them to show or will he kill me on the spot?

"Tick, tock, goes the clock, Renee. Your minute is running up!"

"Renee, choose me." The words falls from my lips without a hint of doubt. "Just don't let it be Alice. Please! I'm begging you! Pick me!

I can hear Alice crying, bawling her precious eyes out.

"No, pick me, choose me," she murmurs through the wails. "Not Bella, please not Bella."

"If you every fucking loved me, Renee, you'll pick me! Let Alice live, let her have that life you always dreamed of for her. You barely knew me," I plead, my vision blurry, my heart racing as Renee shakes her head, the clock ticking down, and I'm glad that I never knew her before, that my dad tried to protect me from knowing who she truly is, a coward. "SAY MY FUCKING NAME, YOU PATHETIC COKE HEAD!"

That's what does it.

"Bella," she says softly, her eyes full of shock at her own decision.

Aro kneels before me as Alice flails, her arms moving my arms, her hand tugging my shirt.

"No, Bella, no, please. God, please not her!"

"Breathe, Alice, just breath. It's okay," I say calmly as Aro unshackles me from the handcuffs, his hand gripping tightly around my arm.

He places me at my mother's feet and I say the only thing I can think of to her.

"Thanks,"

The knife cuts diagonally up my left forearm in a trail of stinging pain as I scream out at the top of my lungs. I'm sorry, Edward. I'm sorry I won't be able to marry you or have children with you, but I can give Alice a life, I can give you a life. The sight of all the blood makes me dizzy. The world begins to spin as Aro slices my other forearm the same way and the last thing I see before I black out is not my mother's tear streaked face, but the face of Edward as he comes barreling into the light, sweat dripping off his brow, arm raised, and gun in hand, poised to kill.


	29. Beating Hearts

**Chapter 28**

**Beating Hearts**

"True love is when your heart beats more for someone else than it does for you."~ Me

**EPOV**

As my feet collide with the ground at a speed I never thought I was capable of, my mind wanders to days past. I remember the first morning I woke up with Bella in my arms, in our bed, she was so peaceful, and when she started to stir and the light hit her eyes in just the right way, it took the air straight from my body. It was like being born again, like seeing the stars or watching the sunrise for the first time. If she dies, I'll never see the sunrise again, and neither will anyone who has had a part in her death. I try to turn the knob on the door, but it won't move- locked. There's no time to think, no time to consider different possibilities on how I might get in; Bella needs me. Without a hint of delay, I smash my shoulder into the door, slamming into it with all my might, and it flies open. My shoulder radiates pain as I run into the dark, following the sound of Alice's sobs…Alice, shit. I click the safety off the gun and raise it as I enter a circle of light.

The first thing I see is red, vibrantly standing out amidst the gray concrete and the white rays of artificial brightness. Bella's collapsed on the ground, her arms sliced up by a blade that's dripping scarlet blood in Aro's hand. In front of her is a frail woman sobbing into her palms and Alice is handcuffed to a pole a few feet away, wailing, and kicking frantically. There's blood everywhere, but Bella's chest is moving; she's still alive. I need to get her help though and soon. I can't help thinking that if I had just kept the video feed; they'd be running in here right now. How could I have done something so stupid? And what for, so I could smack Tanya around a little bit and threaten her…My eyes begin to water as I level the gun in my hands with his black eyes and Aro laughs. This shit ends now. I grit my teeth, applying slight pressure to the trigger and he simply grins at me. That's when I feel a barrel of steel against my temple, the cold of the metal on my skin.

"Drop the gun," A deep voice demands and I let out a half sob/half-crazy laugh. "Drop the gun or I'll blow your fucking head in, kid."

The man beside me is a beast, as big as Emmett is if not bigger. You're shitting me! This is absurd. I've spent my whole life on the sidelines, and this is how it ends. When I finally have something to live for, to fight for, I'm supposed to throw up my arms and give up, just stand by and watch her die…fuck no! If I'm going down, I'm taking that fucking bastard with me.

"Bite me," I growl.

Everything happens in seconds, but it seems to go in slow motion. My finger squeezes down on the trigger just as the sound of bone clashing with bone comes from my right. I'm knocked to the ground, the bullet misses, spiraling into the darkness, and my watch smacks into the concrete, shattering the faceplate and possibly breaking it all together. I hiss out in pain at the impact and stare dumbfounded at Jacob as he attempts to wrestle the gun free from the guard, a series of grunting and growling noises echoing through the warehouse. He's practically naked, wearing only leather shorts, and covered in bleeding, whip-shaped gashes. They struggle hard for the gun, steel smacks against bone with a thwack sound and I let out a sigh of relief when I see Jacob stand, gun in hand, the guard knocked out cold. My mind is reeling with questions and praise, but there's no time for congratulatory hugs or pats on the back because Aro isn't planning to go down without a fight. He has a knife to Alice's throat and she has her mouth pursed in anger while tears continue to spill from her eyes. I jump to my feet quickly, glancing at the growing puddle of blood around Bella. I try to see if there's any movement in her body, but there's too much going on to focus. Besides, I can't bring myself to think about her being dead; she has to be alive, she just has to be. There's no life left for me if she isn't. Jacob and I both take aim at Aro's chest.

"Now, let's play nice, kids. We wouldn't want anyone to get hurt," he sneers, digging the knife in just enough so that blood begins to trickle, he laughs. "Or maybe we would, it is quite enjoyable to see this one squirm."

"Master, no, master, you promised, only one!" The frail woman in the chair pleads to Aro and he laughs even harder.

"Fucking shoot him!" Alice snarls, every word pressing the knife harder into her skin.

My finger wavers on the trigger. I can't do that to Alice, not even if she wants me to. I see the same hesitation in Jacob's face and I know that neither of us will shoot him, not if it's going to cost Alice her life. Aro grins triumphantly.

"Renee, grab their guns, bring them to me," he orders the woman and it clicks, Renee…but she's supposed to be dead. Didn't Bella say that she was dead?

My mouth drops open in surprise, and Jacob shakes his head, seeming somewhat shocked, but mostly angry. Aro chuckles as Renee stands from the chair.

"Oh, my apologies, Edward, you missed story hour, didn't you? You were a tad busy with Tanya. I suppose that was just a show though. Pity…you would have made a nice addition." Jacob hands over his gun when the woman reaches for it, eyeing her with disgust. "Anyways, this is Bella and Alice's mother, Renee."

Aro's lips lift in a devious grin and Jacob smacks a palm to his face, letting out a short, non-humorous laugh. I feel like I've been hit with a battering ram. Sisters…they're sisters? The woman, who I now notice has an ashy version of Bella's hair and Alice's eyes, reaches for my gun and I hesitate. Aro presses the knife into Alice's throat again and Renee winces, pulling the weapon from my grasp. I look over at Alice apologetically, but notice she's smiling at me…what the fuck? Her eyes dart to the side and back to me. I follow the signal, joy flooding me when I notice a key has been inserted into the handcuffs and Alice's arms are free. I shove Jacob so that he pulls his head from his hand. Alice's eyes lock on the guns. Renee's only a few steps away when she gives us a nod. God, I hope she knows what she's doing.

We both move at her cue, grabbing the guns as the smile on Aro's face falls and Alice slips free, her neck being nicked in the process. He lunges for her, but before Jacob or I have the chance to fire, Renee tackles him to the ground, screaming in a battle cry at the top of her lungs. The warehouse floods with noise, footsteps coming from every direction as I try to get a clear shot, sweat dripping off my brow. They fight over the knife until Aro gets the upper hand and she screams as the knife penetrates her gut. Her body goes limp; my finger pulls the trigger. My ears ring and the sound of gunshots fill the warehouse as Aro is riddled with bullets that seem to come from all sides. His body shudders with each blow, blood barely having the opportunity to surface before he hits the concrete. It pours out of him all at once then, stretching out across the floor as his body lays motionless.

Alice races to Bella's side as our company steps into the light and I brace myself for whoever it might me, prepared to defend the girls. It's only when I know its Kate, Rose, Emmett, and Jasper, that I let my gun fall to the floor. The tears that have been held back now fall with earnest as I rush to Bella. Alice is holding Bella's arms over her head, trying to slow the flow of blood. I press my hand to her neck and cry even harder when I feel the slow thump of her heart. Her pulse is slow, but she's still alive. She's still alive!

I rip off my shirt, wrapping it around one of her arms as Emmett follows suit.

"Sam, it's Kate, we need an ambulance, now!" Kate shouts into her phone, the sound muffled by the ringing in my ears, the croaking sobs escaping me, and the aching of my heart.

When the ambulance arrives, they thankfully agree to let me ride with Bella to the hospital. I try my best not to cry while the EMT woman, whose nametag looks something like Tracey through my blurry vision, works over Bella; I fail, spending the whole time with one of my hands clasping Bella's leg and the other yanking at my hair while I bawl my eyes out. The slow beeping of the heart monitor is the only thing that keeps me sane. Everyone breaks out in a frenzy the moment the vehicle parks and the back doors open, people shouting at one another different medical lingo that I can't keep track of as they hurriedly push Bella down the hall. I hear someone say something about a blood transfusion when we reach a set of double doors, and Tracy shoves me back.

"You can't go in there, handsome, they've got to work on her," Tracy says, clasping her hand on my shoulder with a grim smile.

Something snaps in me, incoherent words spill out along with my tears that splash onto the floor, one right after the other.

"But-, I-, Bella-, she needs-, I-, I can't live without-"

The woman pulls me into a hug and I press my face into her shoulder, weeping like a child while she pats my back. After a few minutes, my sanity comes back to me and I go silent, awkwardly pulling away.

"God, I'm sorry," I mumble, batting away my tears with a closed fist and a manly grunt.

She gives me a reassuring smile as she wipes away the tears on her shirt.

"It's all good," she says.

A whistle makes her head snap to the door of the ambulance bay where the driver of the ambulance stands, waving her over impatiently.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming!"

She walks me to the waiting room door a couple feet away and holds it open. I murmur thanks.

"No problem," she says, patting my back as I step through the door. "Just try and keep the faith, handsome."

She gives me a nod and walks off. The waiting room is deserted, full of cheap wooden tables and chairs that connect with each other so they can't be moved. There's an old television and stacks of magazines scattered about. My body is trembling and I immediately nix the idea of sitting. Instead, I pace in my undershirt and jeans, filthy and spattered in blood as I try my best to keep faith, to believe that something this wonderful wouldn't come into my life just to be ripped away. The television entertains itself as the clock ticks on the wall, time passing, minute by minute. At the one-hour mark, the gang shows up. They try to talk to me, but I can't talk, I can't even think about anything except Bella. I continue to pace. They sit at the tables and in the chairs, solemn and silent. Rose grasps onto Emmett, Alice buries her head in Jasper's shoulder, a bandage around her neck, and Jacob grimaces in pain when he shifts occasionally in his hospital pants and plain white tee.

One and half hours in, Mom and Dad show up, Jasper called them. The girls nod weakly when the guys introduce them and Mom latches her arms around me. My arms move automatically to wrap around her, my face blank, my heart not quite into it. Although I don't want to, she makes me sit.

My knees shake, my feet tap the linoleum, and another 15 minutes pass. Kate shows up, she announces that Sam's making her take time off and sits with Jake. They talk softly amongst themselves. It's not long before they're holding hands, comforting each other. Sam arrives moments after the clock hits the two and a half hour point. Two agents are with him, they try to ask me questions I don't have the strength to answer. When Sam gives them the go ahead to leave me be for now, they move onto the others. I don't have the energy to thank him. My head falls back against the wall and I stare into the fluorescent light overhead until my eyes hurt.

I'm beginning to lose faith when I register that it's been over 3 hours. I watch the waiting room without truly seeing it, barely realizing when Mom and Dad leave, and then, bring back food for the others; I refuse to eat. Sam leaves with the two agents after they've taken statements from everyone except me, but first, he tells me that he'll be praying for Bella and asks me to call later with an update. When I stare at the card he tries to hand me as if I don't know what to do with it, he gives it to someone else. With every second that passes the faith slowly dies. Someone would have come to tell us if she was dead, right? I mean, they can't just leave us sitting here forever! I have to know, I have to know if she's alive or dead, if I'm alive or dead. Abruptly, I stand and storm out of the room, the noise of half a dozen people following me, my family and friend's voices and shoes trailing behind me.

I stop at a nurse's station and begin banging my hand on the counter until they're all looking at me and Emmett's trying to hold me back.

"Can I help you, sir?" A blonde girl in scrubs glares at me from the other side of the counter, dropping her gossip magazine in irritation.

"I don't know, can you?" I shout, struggling against Emmett's hold. "I'd hate to disturb you when you're so clearly busy reading something of vital importance."

"Is everything all right here?" asks a man in a white doctor's coat, his nametag says Dr. Peter Jackson.

"No, it's not! I've been waiting for four fucking hours to hear about my fiancé's condition. I want to know what's going on and I want to know, NOW!"

"Are you with Isabella Swan?"

I nod.

"I am so sorry," he states and my heart drops, I stop struggling against Emmett. God, please, no…I can feel the blood drain from my face. "Oh my! No, sir, she's fine, everything's fine. She's still asleep, but she's stable and in recovery room three. I can take you there now."

He turns towards the blonde girl.

"Ms. Mallory you were supposed to give this group an update an hour ago!"

I don't even care that the stupid blonde bitch is stammering to make up an excuse or that Jasper and Alice are holding back Rose from jumping over the counter because Bella's alive. She's alive! I wiggle free of Emmett's hold and start running the halls, scanning the signs by the doors until I come upon the sign that makes my heart return to my chest, Recovery Room Three. I don't know where the others are and I don't give a flying hell at the moment. The door is open and the lights are dimmed, I can hear the monitor beeping steadily. Slowly, I walk into the room and my eyes fall on her chest, rising and falling beneath a hideous blue hospital gown. It astounds me because she's still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Bella's arms are bandaged neatly and placed at her sides over a relatively thick hospital blanket. She has an IV hooked up to her that I hope is full of pain medication. I don't want her to be in pain, she shouldn't ever have to be in pain. Her bed is propped up slightly and her head is lulled to the side, her eyes closed in sleep. Cautiously, as if I may break some magical spell, I step over to the bed, taking a seat in the chair beside her. Leaning forward, I place my head on her chest, careful not to disturb her arms. When I find what I'm looking for, I breathe a deep sigh and close my eyes in contentment. My heart still beats.


	30. Enjoyments

**Chapter 29**

**Enjoyments**

"There is neither happiness nor misery in the world; there is only the comparison of one state to another, nothing more. He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness. We must have felt what it is to die, that we may appreciate the enjoyments of life."~ Alexandre Dumas

**BPOV**

I'm some where between asleep and awake, drifting through states of consciousness, when I smell it, the warm and fragrant scent of cinnamon with just a hint of paint. My body doesn't quite feel like my body and my brain is muddled with drugs, but the smell is unmistakable to me, engrained into my memory somehow. It latches onto me, bringing me out of my haze to a world of sounds- the far away chattering of a television with a low volume, creaking wheels, footsteps, and two whispering voices.

"Oh, Honey, she's beautiful," a woman says, her tone smooth and sweet like butter cream frosting.

"I know," replies a voice, so familiar, a part of me in a way. I can hear the smile in the tone of velvet, and see it as it forms into an image in my mind- the lopsided smirk appears in time with a chiseled jaw adorned with a layer of scruff, and then, eyes materialize, the color of emerald pools, vibrant, beautiful. I melt into understanding as the metal that pierces through his eyebrow finds its place amongst the gorgeous face followed by that unruly bronze hair that's so soft to touch. I know that face even better than I know myself.

"Edward." A raspy word, spoken through exhaustion and a cloud of drugs, escapes my lips. At least I think I'm the one who says it.

A hand, his hand, presses against my cheek, lighting a fire in my belly.

"Bella?"

His breath blows across my face, warm and smelling heavily of him, cinnamon, paint, paint, cinnamon, Edward…my Edward

"Mm," I hum in approval at the strong aroma, basking in its closeness, his closeness, as his thumb strokes my cheek.

A memory of him sweating over me, grunting and carnal, hits me and I wish I could sink into it, but I want more to see him, to know without a doubt that he's with me, that I'm not simply imagining him. With all my effort, I try to open my eyes. After a few seconds, my eyelids lift only for me to be assaulted by the harsh blue light from a television.

"Jeez," I murmur and attempt to move my right arm to block my eyes. A tugging, burning pain shoots through my veins, causing me to hiss. "Ow."

Edward goes from loving to panic in a second flat.

"Are you okay, Bella? Do you need a nurse? I should call for a nurse."

His hand disappears. I relax my arm, and the pain stops. Note to self: Don't move arms.

"No, its fine, I'm fine. It just hurt to move my arm..."

My mind is foggy, confused. I squint away from the glow of the television set, taking in the blurry room around. There's a monitor to my right with numbers on it and an IV is hooked into my arm through a hole in the bandaging. It all comes flooding into my head at once, the scenes flipping through like some terrible movie- Irina and Tanya showing up at the apartment, waking up in the warehouse, Alice, Aro, Renee, the choice, the pain. Oh, god!

"Alice! Where's Alice? Is she okay? Did he hurt her? What about Jacob? Did the feds get Aro? What about Irina and Tanya?" I ask, talking so fast and with such fear that my sentences practically run together.

"Relax, love." Edward tries to comfort me, resting his hand on my leg. "Alice and Jacob are both sitting in the waiting room and I'll have the nurse bring them back here in a minute. Irina and Tanya are in custody. As for Aro…well, you don't have to worry about him anymore, he's dead, but I don't want to talk about that now. You need to take it easy."

It's over…I clutch my chest with my hand in relief, forgetting about my arms, the tugging, and burning returns.

"Shit!" I wince, resting my arm again as I lock eyes with Edward, my lips pulling into a reassuring smile when I see his sad expression. "It's okay, Edward…I'm just sore."

"Are you positive? I can get you a nurse, they can bring you more medicine," he says, worry etched on his face.

"I'm sure," I declare. "Now could you sit your ass back down and shut off that bright television, please? Since everyone's alright, I'd like to go back to gawking at you and imagining you naked."

Edward chuckles, the worried expression easing some as he takes his seat on my right side, clicking the power button on the remote attached to my bed. The butter cream voice I heard earlier sighs loudly from my left. I didn't know anyone else was still in here, but with the television off and my vision finally clear, I recognize her instantly. She looks even more radiant than in his family pictures. My skin burns hot with embarrassment.

"Shit...I mean, crap. Oh, god…I am so sorry!" I scramble to apologize and glare at Edward. "Why didn't you say something?"

"Um, you didn't really give me the opportunity," he says through his chuckles, running a hand into his hair.

The woman smiles, seeming to let my drug induced idiocy go as she sets down the bag of food that I'm sure she brought for Edward. Still, I feel horrible. This is not the first impression I wanted to make on Edward's mother.

"It's nice to meet you, Bella," she says, her green eyes shimmering adoringly.

"You too, Mrs. Cullen," I reply, my face burning with shame. Unable to shade my face with my hand, I try instead to avoid looking in her direction. "I am so embarrassed."

"Oh, dear, you're fine, perfect in fact and fuck the formalities, just call me Esme."

Edward's mouth drops open, his eyes as big as saucers.

"Did my mom just say fuck?" Edward asks in a whisper.

"Edward, language!" She admonishes, shaking her head. "And I would never do such a thing."

I let out a tiny giggle as I look up and Esme winks at me, walking over to a bewildered Edward. She gives him a hug while talking to me.

"Now, I'll go get Alice for you, dear. That way you can get back to your gawking."

I blush a fire engine red and Esme laughs.

"Yep, perfect," she murmurs softly, heading for the door. "I'll see you two on Thanksgiving. Oh, and Bella, there's some pasta and snacks in the bag for you as well as Edward. Hospital food is the worst."

With that said, she disappears into the hallway and my heart opens up to yet another wonderful person as my stomach growls.

"Dinner time for the humans?" Edward asks, opening the bag of goodies.

"Definitely."

He peels the lid off a container and fills a fork with Alfredo, stretching it out for me to eat. As soon as the food hits my mouth, I moan loudly. This is fucking delicious!

"God, I love your mom." Edward pouts and I smile at him. "But no where near as much as I love you and when I marry you, she'll be my mom too."

He leans forward and captures me in a deep kiss until I feel positively dizzy. Then he pulls away and for a moment, I think I must have died because this is heaven, being here with him without a care in the world…

A throat clears and I open my eyes to see Alice standing by the door, her eyes misting over with tears. I know without asking what it is that she wants and I give her a nod. She runs to me, embracing me carefully as I rest my head on her tiny shoulder. I'd give anything to hug her back.

"Don't ever do that again, Bella, or I swear I'll-, I'll-"

"Save your breath, Ali. I'd do it a thousand times," I tell her, a few tears falling without warning. She lets me go and her face is wet too, the drops forming streaks as they run down her cheeks. We both shake our heads and Edward grins at us.

"I'm surprised I didn't see it before," he says and I look at him puzzled. "The sisters thing. It's obvious really; you both have the same weird mannerisms, the same stubbornness."

"I am not stubborn!" Alice and I declare, our voices overlapping one another and we all laugh. It feels good to laugh, to be happy. Even when Alice tells me about Renee, I can't find it in me to be sad, at least she finally did something right.

As the time passes and visiting hours near an end, everyone is ushered in quickly and promptly rushed out, one by one. Jacob jokingly complains about Edward and me not telling him about Kate. I tell him to get the hell over it and he agrees to give Kate a chance on the condition that when I'm better, I make him the cupcakes that he was promised. Edward informs me after he leaves that he already forgave her earlier, or at least it seemed that way when he had to go pee so bad that he left my side for a few minutes and found them making out in an empty hall. I ask him why he didn't tell me that before; he says he wanted cupcakes too. I shake my head, figures.

Emmett arrives immediately after Jacob, with the Cullen jersey in hand, freshly washed. I'm thrilled to change out of the hospital gown. When I'm back from the bathroom, he talks proudly about how Rose was kicked out of the hospital for jumping some stupid nurse during her break and beating the snot out of her. At first, I'm upset that Rose would do such a thing, but when I get the whole story, I feel extremely proud of her myself.

Jasper enters last, carrying a DVD player, and a DVD. I grin at him like a Cheshire cat when I see the title of the movie, Romeo and Juliet. I'm overjoyed with the prospect of watching it, even if it causes Edward to groan in annoyance. My doctor, Dr. Jackson, walks into the room shortly after Jasper leaves and informs me that I should be released tomorrow and that they're just keeping me overnight as a precaution to make sure that the blood they gave me doesn't cause any adverse side effects. It's welcome news. It means I'll have the chance to recover at home tomorrow before I go to Thanksgiving dinner the day after.

Visiting hours end at nine and the hospital goes quiet, the nurses change shifts, and my IV is removed. I'm given some pain pills to take if I feel the need. Both Edward and the nurse try to get me to sleep, but I feel strangely awake now, I want to watch the movie. Edward agrees to put it in and I convince him to crawl into the tiny bed with me. Fifteen minutes into the movie, he shifts against me and I realize he's rock hard. His cock presses into my thigh, and the sensation sends my head spinning.

I shift my leg so that my thigh rubs along the hard bulge under the hospital pants he changed into and he shudders, shaking his head.

"No, we can't, Bella. Your arms-"

"I won't move them," I whimper, wanton and needy as I continue sliding his covered cock across my skin, feeling the stiffness of it through the fabric of his pants and the shorts I'm wearing. "God…I need you."

His hot breath blows heavy across my neck with restraint and I shiver, my arousal dripping fast and my heart pounding in my chest.

"Please…I'm so wet just touch me, put your tongue on me, anything," I whimper and plead, biting my lip in the end to prevent myself from screaming in desperation.

His eyes glaze over with lust, his resolve crumbling as his hand slides from my waist underneath the Cullen Jersey and into my shorts and panties. Just the light grazing of his fingertips over my clit sends my stomach coiling.

"Ugh," I groan in approval as he looks over at the almost closed door and whispers into my ear.

"Not that I don't love your noises, because believe me I do. In fact I want to hear you fucking scream the next time I have you home, but you're going to have to be quiet this time."

He pulls his hand away and I whimper softly as he slips out of the bed and stands at the side of the bed. Cautiously, Edward scoots me over, maneuvering my lower half so that I twist at the waist, my legs hanging half way off the bed and my ass on the edge of the mattress sideways. It's clever because my top half is flat, my arms sprawled out, but he can watch the door this way.

He tugs my shorts and panties down, inch by agonizing inch, until I'm exposed, the air hitting my dripping wet pussy.

"Jesus," he licks his lips, running his hands along my slit, soaking his fingers as if it's too much.

"Oh, fuck," I moan softly, my pussy throbbing at the contact. "Please, Edward, please."

I watch as he pulls his cock from his pants and my eyes rolls back in an overload of pleasure. He leans forward, gripping my ass tightly with his free hand so he can guide himself in.

"I can't help it, you say jump and I say how high. You own me, Bella, every fucking piece of me," he says the words while pressing into me, his lips grazing my neck, and I damn near come apart.

"Edward," I grunt, using all my will power not to latch onto him, not to run my fingers through his hair, or scrape my nails along his back. I need a distraction before I'm so drunk on him that I won't think. I need to cum.

His hand slips and his thumb falls into the crack of my ass, wet and moist from my juices. I see the stars.

"Oh, yes, yes, Edward," I plead as quietly as I can manage, bucking my body so that his thumb presses against my back entrance while he's thrusting into me, back and forth, back and forth, my stomach coils. "Put your thumb in my ass…I'm so close already. Oh god, it's so good. So good…I need to cum, make me cum."

His eyes widen as he complies, sliding his thumb in, picking up his speed and thrusting into me harder. The pressure and fullness causes me to cum instantly, my pussy pulsating around him as my mouth falls in an 'O'.

"Shit, it's so tight…holy fuck, Bella, you're so fucking tight like this," he grunts, ramming into me faster and my fingers, my hands, are so temped to squeeze the sheets. He needs to cum now before I lose all control.

"Cum on my ass, Edward, mark me," I command him in a panting breath and he stiffens inside me immediately, pulling out.

"Yes, shit!" he growls, pumping his cock fast over my ass.

His thumb glides out as he releases and he anchors himself on the bed, huffing for air, kissing every inch of skin on my chest and neck while chanting how much he loves me. I'm hot and sticky, but the only thing I can think of is that life couldn't possibly get any better.


	31. Mutual Weirdness

**Chapter 30**

**Mutual Weirdness**

"We are all a little weird and life's a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love."~ Dr. Seuss

**EPOV**

"Come on, love. Just relax, please, for me?" I beg her to lie back down on the bed and let me bring her dinner. "You shouldn't over exert yourself; you have to be careful with your stitches."

"I'm only going to make a sandwich not cook a five star meal. My stitches will be fine," she replies with a huff of air, shaking her head. "Besides, the doctor said I could resume my normal activities again when I feel up to it and I feel up to it."

She gives me a small smile and walks across the room naked to scoop up the Cullen jersey off the floor as I let out an uncontrollable groan. It's practically an involuntary reaction when it comes to Bella and her eyes wonder directly to my boxers at the sound. I know without looking that I'm hard- again. She giggles, slipping on the jersey with a clean pair of shorts. Her slight wince at the fabric sliding across her bare forearms doesn't escape me though and it causes my heart to clench in my chest, the desire for her body immediately replaced with concern for her. I hate seeing her in any amount of pain, no matter how miniscule she claims it is.

"You should at least take another pill," I say, watching her reach for the over-the-counter antibacterial cream the doctor told her to get.

As she applies it, I frown at the angry red wounds with the weaving black stitches running along their lengths. Bella insisted on taking off the bandaging to let the cuts breath. It's odd, but the sight of them seems to be harder on Alice and me then it is on her. She didn't even flinch when the doctor said that scars would be inevitable.

"Will it make you happy?" she asks, a smile in her voice as I step up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist. I nod against her shoulder and she reaches for the orange bottle, pops out a pill into her hand, and swallows it with a sip of water. It does make me a little bit happy. Still, I would rather she let me make her dinner.

I never realized how truly stubborn Bella could be until she got out of the hospital this morning. Ever since her release, she has refused my help in anything that doesn't pertain to sex and while I find her hard headedness to be an endearing quality, it can be down right frustrating. The truth is that her unwillingness to let me help her is something that makes our relationship real though, not a hallucination or fantasy or dream. Every real couple has its differences. The fact that she has a characteristic that bothers me is normal. Regardless, if I had it my way, she would let me praise at her feet.

When she makes a move to leave the room, I grip her waist a little tighter, not willing to let her go outside of our door. I want so much for her to lie back down, but I know she won't.

"I'm starving, Edward," she declares, tilting her head to the side to kiss me on the lips. The soft kiss causes me to unwillingly release her from my hold and she disappears out the door. I stand in place for only seconds before throwing on a pair of sweats and racing out after her.

She's relaxed, pulling stuff out of the fridge when I get there. That's something else that's been irritating me- Bella's newfound ease with being distanced from me. Anyone would think that after what happened yesterday that Bella would be attached to my hip. The fact is though that while she's thrilled when I'm around, she doesn't have issues with leaving my side as she used to. I know that her being so comfortable with distance is normal and healthy, and I want that for her. It's just hard because I don't feel 100 percent comfortable with it myself yet.

Sure, the nightmares have yet to show again and I'm starting to come to terms with the fact that those people dying were not my fault, but after almost losing her, I feel more uneasy then ever when I'm not with her. It's stupid because I shouldn't be worried. There's no threat to our lives or to our relationship. Well, as far as I know…Shit! I've been so focused on making her relax and keeping her happy by doping her up on sex that it hasn't even occurred to me until now that I haven't told Bella that I was the one who shot Aro. What if the feds press charges? She may be fine with minutes of separation, but I can guarantee that she won't be okay if I'm stuck in some jail cell for who knows how many years. Would they really press charges on me for killing the bastard? I haven't heard from Sam at all to indicate that that's the case. Who knows though, maybe the paperwork's being put together at this very moment.

The noise of Bella scrounging through the fridge sends Alice jumping up from the couch to try to help. Jasper follows her, not nearly as concerned as Alice appears, but more than willing to lend a hand to Bella nonetheless. I'm so lost in my own worries; I neglect to warn them.

"You want some help, Bella?" Jazz asks, taking hold of the fridge handle for her.

"No, I don't," Bella snaps, snatching the cheese out of Alice's hand the moment she grabs it from her. "I'm not a fucking invalid; I can make a damn sandwich, people!"

"Well, alright then," Jasper chuckles, raising his hands in defeat. "I'm going back to watching the movie. Alice?"

"I'll be there in a minute," Alice murmurs in reply as he walks out.

Bella rolls her eyes, looks at Alice, and sees me standing at the entrance to the kitchen.

"Really? You're both going to watch me make a sandwich." Neither of us moves and Bella shrugs. "Whatever."

She reaches into a drawer and pulls out a knife. The sight of it in her hand causes Alice and me to cringe. Bella sets it on the counter and sighs heavily.

"Alright, that is enough of this-"

The doorbell rings, cutting off whatever she was about to say and Bella storms off to answer it. My eyes dart to a worried Alice. I have no doubt she's remembering what happened the last time that doorbell rang just as I am. It's irrational, what with Aro dead, and Irina and Tanya being in jail along with the rest of Aro's living minions. I'm not sure Alice can help herself anymore than I can though. It's not until we hear the sound of Bella's laughs that our stiff frames relax. We walk out into the living room to see the source of her joy and unwillingly fall into our own fits of laughter. It's just too funny not to laugh.

In the door way is Kate with her hair in awkward tilted pigtails. She's dressed in pajamas covered in blue bunnies, fluffy bunny slippers, and holding an extra large pizza. On top of the box is a pack of tampons, a stack of chick flicks, and a big sign that says 'Happy We're Not Dead and Now We Can Bitch about Your Period Day!' That's not the best part though; the best part is that she isn't the only one dressed for a slumber party. Next to her, in a long sleeve pajama set of pink ducks with matching pigtails held with scrunches is Jacob, holding a tray of chocolate cupcakes with a big grin on his face, chocolate smeared across his mouth.

When I can stop laughing, I shake my head at him and he shrugs.

"What? I really like cupcakes, man," he says in explanation, pushing past me to set the tray on the coffee table.

Kate follows him in, setting her own things on the table before pulling me to the side as the gang attacks the pizza like rabid dogs. I try to peer at Bella through my peripheral vision, watching to make sure she's careful, but Kate notices and redirects my attention at her by waving her hand in my face.

"Hey, lover boy! Give me a minute here."

"Yeah, okay, I'm listening," I stammer, hoping to push her I told you so conversation along.

"Have you talked to Sam?"

Huh? The question catches me off guard and my mind immediately drifts back to my concerns a few moments ago. Has she heard something? Is this just the calm before the storm?

"No, why?" I reply nervously, reaching up to run a hand through my hair.

"Damn it," Kate grumbles. "When you do can you let me know what he asks about me? I'm kind of concerned that he might question my reasoning for why I emptied my clip on Aro even after I knew I hit him the first time, it doesn't look good when an agent does that."

My mind is bubbling with confusion at her words. Is she trying to protect me? Don't they have evidence for stuff like that? They'll know those bullets came from the gun I had when they take fingerprints.

She smacks my cheek lightly, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Pay attention, Cullen. I'm not asking you to cover for me. I just want you to tell me what Sam says. After all you owe me."

"But-, but I shot Aro…"

Kate growls in irritation, pressing her face into her palm, the noise catches Jacob's attention and he walks over to us, leaving Alice and Bella to argue over whether Bella can feed herself or not. Alice wants to cut up a slice of pizza for her and Bella wants Alice to shut the fuck up and let her eat her pizza like an adult. Jasper is held up in the crossfire.

"What's going on?" Jake asks, wiping his face with a napkin and placing his hand on Kate's waist.

"Dumbass here thinks that he's the one who shot Aro," Kate states, dropping her hand.

"Well, of course he didn't. I shot Aro," Jake says.

"Oh, brother," Kate complains, shaking her head. "You're both idiots. I'm the one who shot Aro."

"No, you didn't," I counter. "I did, I felt the kick of the gun."

It takes only seconds for the yelling to erupt, all of us screaming over each other as Jasper, Alice, and Bella watch on, Bella appearing shocked, Alice and Jasper more annoyed than anything. A shouting Emmett breaks up the feud.

"Oh, for Pete sake! You all shot him; now shut up!" Our heads snap to the direction of the door we apparently neglected to close and Emmett stands there next to an almost smug Sam. "Oo, pizza!"

He rushes across the room, calling out for Rose as he goes, but half way to the table he does a double take of Jacob and trips on his own two feet, laughing so hard that he starts to cry. The rest aren't far behind. Looking around the room, I see everyone holding in their snorts and cackles, attempting to keep on their serious faces and failing terribly.

"How can I love these weird-ass, crazy people?" I whisper the words to myself with a soft chuckle, only to have my question answered.

"Because you're just as weird, and just as crazy." Kate pats my shoulder and smiles. "It's worth it though."

I nod in agreement.

"Holy shit!" Rose hollers, entering the apartment and coming face to face with Jake. "Chief Beefcake is not going to do anymore; you're so Princess Cupcake now."

Every person bursts at the seams, a crazy rolling laughter filling the room.

The interview with Sam is short and at the end, I'm more than relieved to discover that Emmett is right, we all shot Aro. There was so much chaos at the time that I didn't realize the shots that seemed to come from all directions, really did come from all directions. The evidence can't even determine which one of us got the fatal shot. Regardless, Sam tells us that the feds aren't going to pursue charges in the situation. They have enough proof that despite how many times we shot him it was in self-defense. The only reason he took the interviews is that they were required procedure. He excuses himself quickly after the questioning, even when we all give him the go ahead to stay. He admits then that he happens to have a date, and he's barraged with hoots and hollers.

Jake gives him a nod of approval and I'm positive he knows something that I don't, but I can't seem to find it in myself to care. We do have a sleepover, and we watch the movies, stuffing our face with pizza and cupcakes, getting into a full on debate about how Rose could have just shared the door with Jack in Titanic and he wouldn't have had to die. That's when Rosalie cuts in with, 'Screw that, he can get his own damn door!'

By two, most everyone's passed out on the floor or on some piece of furniture, everyone except Alice, Bella, Jacob, and Me. The four of us are resting with our backs to one of the tan couches and the television has just gone black again after another movie.

"So, another one?" Bella asks, reaching for the next movie, Alice and I both jump to our feet to grab it before she does and Jacob laughs as Bella groans.

"Seriously, Bella? When are you going to tell them how you feel about that?" Jacob says, pointing to her arms. I look at Alice and she looks at me, equally confused by the comment. "Whoops, my bad! Time to go to the bathroom."

He gets up and walks out of the room, Bella exhales loudly.

"Traitor…"

"What's he talking about?" Alice asks and I nod at her gratefully, my mouth suddenly not able to make words.

Bella looks at the both of us and then stares down at the carpet, the sound of Emmett's snores filling the silence.

"I meant what I said at the hospital, Ali. I'm glad I did it and the fact that both of you are treating me like a china doll and looking at me with sadness in your eyes sucks. I'm proud of myself. Taking on that knife was the most selfless thing I've ever done, and I did it out of love. I just-, I hate that you two are acting as if this is the worst thing in the world."

She gestures to her forearms and smiles softly.

"The scars will be my badge of honor in a way, one that won't wash away or disappear. I'll always have a symbol of my strength, of my ability to fight for what I believe in and when someone asks about them, I'll have the proof to tell them that love is really worth fighting for. I'm not ashamed of what I did, but it seems like you guys are."

I swallow a lump in my throat and reach out to grab her hand.

"I could never be ashamed of you, love, not in a million years. I just wish I could have done more for you. I feel like I need to make up for it."

Alice's fingers lace in Bella's free palm.

"Ditto,"

"You've both done so much for me already though. This-, well, this makes us even." Bella squeezes our hands lightly and Alice smiles widely, resting her head on Bella's shoulder as Bella in turn rests her head on mine.

* * *

The food is set on the table before us- Turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, stuffing, yams, apple pie, pumpkin pie, and a dozen other things. There's no denying it, Mom has gone overboard this year, but I have a feeling that's a good thing. There are many mouths to feed, including some that were forced by a band of whining friends to come. At the last minute, Jake's car decided to take a dive so instead of going home for Thanksgiving, him and Kate were going to spend the day alone, but none of us were going to let that happen. So here we are, all ten of us, seated around in my parents' dining room, facing a wonderful holiday meal.

"Now, we have a bit of a tradition around here. We're all going to say what were thankful for; Carlisle, dear, you first," Mom sits at her end of the table, raising a glass of champagne, we all follow suit, raising are own glasses of varying drinks.

To my immediate left, Dad rubs his chin, contemplating with a smirk as he does every year, but with a twinkle in his eyes that I haven't seen since the days of story telling or card playing. He's always been happy yes, but this is that extreme level of happiness, of joy and merriment. He clears his throat.

"I'm thankful of course for a beautiful, devoted, and loving wife who I cherish more with every passing year, my three wonderful boys, who I have only grown fonder of and prouder of over time, and the amazing people they have all brought to my table tonight, especially the stunning ladies."

He eyes Kate, Alice, Rose, and Bella as he tips his glass to his lips with a wink and mom laughs, the girls blush profusely.

"See, I do take after the old man," Emmett booms, peering across Rose over at Jasper. "A ladies man!"

Everyone sees Rose elbow him, but we pretend not to notice it as he winces and starts to talk.

"I'm thankful for my knee injury because it brought me here, surrounded by family and friends and next to a gorgeous vixen that drives me crazy. It's also given me the opportunity to gain some knowledge into how managing works, which is the only reason I feel capable of opening my own business." He nods at me, taking down his drink with one tip of the glass. "I bought a two story building yesterday. Rosie and I are going to open up a place that serves coffee and shows fine art on the lower level by day and a sports bar on the top level by night. We want to hire Jacob, Alice, Bella, and Edward to help us run the joint."

The table breaks out into cheers, smiles, congratulations, and appreciative words. Bella smiles at me, her issue with wanting to work, but not wanting to miss her friends resolved. I grin back at her, I won't have to miss her either now, she can work, and I can keep her close.

"Alright, it's my turn!" Rose announces, beaming with a smile that runs from ear to ear.

"I'm thankful for the hateful hag, Irina, because without her I never would have found you all, including Mr. Brawny here. Oh, and I'm thankful that the bitch is in jail with her equally horrid sister."

Mom rolls her eyes and the table shouts out a 'here, here' in agreement.

"Sorry, Esme, but it's the best word to describe her. Well, I could think of a few others, they're not appropriate either though," Rose says, taking a sip of her drink and Mom just sighs loudly.

All eyes move to Jasper who's the picture of bliss, eyes alight with a spark that I've only seen since Alice graced his world with her presence.

"I'm thankful for this stupendous family and my spectacular girlfriend, Alice, who has brought me immense pleasure."

Emmett chokes and laughs as I try to hide my chuckle, that's good old Jazzy Jizz Pants.

"Jeez, I'll say it for you, Emmett," Jasper states with a smile. "That's what she said!"

He swallows his glass of water and laughs, squeezing Alice's hand a top the white linen table.

"Oh! And I chose a major, History."

Dad is taken back for a moment and then, smiles in approval.

"That's my boy! What type of history, American, world-"

Mom eyes Dad and he stops, saving the topic for later. Alice twirls the sparkling cider in her flute, her eyebrows furrowed in thought.

"I'm thankful for my mother for leaving me, for wanting more for me even though she wasn't capable of providing it. She gave me the opportunity to discover what love truly is. I found the love of a kind, old woman who treated me like a daughter. I even got a sister out of the deal, and that's what Bella and I would be, with or without our blood connection. I'm also thankful for Jazzy, the man who loves me almost as much as I love him and really, I would have none of it if not for Renee and her weakness. So here's to you, Mom."

Bella lifts her glass at the same time as Alice and they clank across the table, bringing tears to every dry eye as they sip to a mom that was never anywhere near good enough. Alice looks around the room, a smile pulling up her lips.

"Oh, and I'm thankful for learning how to pick pocket on the street and for Aro leaning just close enough to me that I could use my skill." She adds on in an attempt to lighten the mood, it works for most everyone, except Mom.

Mom wipes her eyes with a napkin, sniffling to herself as she talks.

"I'm thankful-, for my husband, who loves and respects me, my children-, who I love so deeply and-, could never part from, and finally, the friends and women that they have brought into my home, that touch my heart and bring my sons such joy."

Mom sips her champagne, choking back her tears as we all smile at her.

"Well, I feel kind of awkward invading on you all like this," Kate starts. "But let's just be honest, I'm not a big fan of my family at the moment and the food sounded delicious so here I am. I'm thankful for your hospitality, the crazy that these people have brought into my life, for Sam letting me keep my job, and to Jake here for giving a liar a chance at redemption."

She gulps down the champagne and the whole table turns to Jake who squirms awkwardly in his chair at the attention.

"I, uh-, huh. I'm not the best with the whole speaking in a crowd thing, but I guess I'm thankful for good people, for my car breaking down so I didn't have to sit down to burnt turkey with my dad, two sisters, twos brother-in-laws and a newborn. I miss them, but I'll see them on Christmas. I'm thankful to Bella for not pushing me too far away for the past few years and letting me be her friend eventually, for Edward for not killing me on that roof on Halloween, for Irina for being stupid enough to let me go to the bathroom because I told her I was going to crap myself, and Kate, for being Kate. Oh, and I guess I like the rest of you too."

We all laugh as Jake drinks his cider nervously, all sights turning onto Bella. She squeezes my hand softly and closes her eyes.

"I'm thankful for the sacrifice Charlie made for me. He lied to save my feelings, he died to save my life, and I couldn't be more thankful. That selfless act of love was the most amazing thing he ever did for me and although, I still miss him terribly, I can appreciate and accept that he did what he did because he loved me more than he loved himself. I can say now that I have felt that same feeling course through my veins, that I have found true love, true family, and true friendship that I would lay my life down for. I am my father's daughter and I wouldn't have it any other way."

She touches the glass to her lips and drinks the water as the room goes utterly silent and I reach into my pocket, gripping the ring in my grasp. Mom stands, pulling the unicorn painting from beneath the table and placing it on the bare wall as I pull the ring from my pocket. It's a simple princess cut diamond on a platinum band with intricately woven swirls engraved into the band and it doesn't matter that I already know that she said yes, my heart still thuds with intensity as I release her interlaced fingers from mine. Her eyes open and she gasps in surprise at the ring in my hand while I slide it onto the ring finger on her left hand

"I'm thankful for you, Bella, for bringing me to life and helping me find my way when I was lost. I want to enjoy every moment that life gives me with you, have children with you, and grow old with you. I try to look into my past and all I see is a haze of fantasy." I gesture to the painting on the wall and her eyes water with tears. "You ripped me out of that and I don't ever want to go back. Life is dirty and full of rocky paths, but as long as I have you walking with me it doesn't make a difference. I'm thankful, more thankful than you will ever know because you already said yes to me…and now you can't take it back."

She breaks out in a smile, a single tear falling from her eye as I grin at her. I swallow my glass of champagne, setting it on the table as I place one hand at the nape of her neck and then, press my lips to hers. When I pull away, I can still taste her because it's real, she's real, and this is simply the beginning of a very weird, crazy, but overall spectacular reality.


	32. Epilogue: The Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please take the time to leave a review. I would love to hear your thoughts on this work. It's always encouraging to hear constructive criticism or praise for the hard work I put in to these stories.

**Epilogue**

**The Journey**

"It is good to have an end to journey towards; but it is the journey that matters in the end."~ Ursula K. LeGuin

**5 years later**

**APOV (Alice)**

Bella and I step through the door and my heart pounds in my chest at the distinct buzzing sound in the air. I remember when I came here with Bella four years ago, how nervous she was. Now I'm the nervous one.

"Ah, girls, you're just on time," A woman in her late 30's named Sue, who we met last week, calls out to us from behind the half wall of a small cubicle room where all the buzzing is coming from. I can see her warm brown hair and tan, tattoo-covered skin as she bends over with the sterile blue gloves on, pressing the tattoo gun into a guy's bicep. He's hidden behind the wall so I can't really tell what he looks like and all I can see is his arm, as muscular and as tan as the woman's arm is. He's getting a green koi fish; it looks amazing. "I'm almost done with this so go ahead and fill out one of the forms on the counter. I'll be with you in a minute."

Bella reaches for the clipboard and smiles at me as she hands it over.

"Are you sure about this?" she asks, grabbing her own clipboard. I nod my head weakly. I'm positive about this, I have been for a long time; I'm just not so positive about how much it's going to hurt.

Without hesitation, Bella signs the consent form and produces her ID to be copied and I suck in a breath, doing the same.

"All done," Sue says, washing off the smudged green ink with a paper towel. When it's all wiped down, it looks even better than it did before. I'm stunned. "What do you think?"

She holds up a mirror for the guy to look at it in and I can see his smile in the reflection, it's wide and familiar, showing pearly white teeth.

"Jake!" Bella and I both yell out his name at the exact same time and he jumps with a start, leaping to his feet.

He gives us a little awkward wave.

"Kate is going to kill you!" I tease him as Sue cleans the tattoo and bandages it.

Jake groans under his breath, probably recalling when he got his other bicep tattooed. The truth is Kate actually likes his tattoo, but she didn't react so well the first time she saw the Quileute tribe symbol on his arm two and a half years ago. She was 6 months pregnant though so it was mostly her hormones doing the talking. We weren't there to see it, but the story was epic. Apparently, she flipped a lid when she saw it, crying and then, screaming before crying again. Jake says that she threw a hairbrush at him at one point. Kate still feels horrible about it, that's what happens when you're pregnant though, it knocks your hormones out of whack. God, I hope that doesn't happen to me when Jazzy and I finally have a baby. We're probably going to start trying sometime next spring.

"She's off on assignment this weekend, but I don't think she'll freak out this time without the hormones interfering. Besides, if I go down, your husband's going down with me. He's the one who painted it and made me want the tattoo in the first place"

He points at Bella and she lets out a huff of air.

"Oh, no, you are not blaming this on Edward. Find a better excuse, Princess Cupcake."

"Wait, if you're here and Kate's on assignment who's watching Savannah?" I ask, honestly curious who would take her on.

I know it's not Jazzy, he was asleep when I left, resting up for a big civil war exam tomorrow morning, and when I picked Bella up, she didn't say anything about Edward watching her. I'm sure she would have had something to say about it too. The thing with Savannah is she's a very sweet little girl…when she's not getting into trouble. She has Kate's mischievous personality down to a 'T' and ever since she could crawl, she's been finding a way to make terror. Oddly enough, with Jake's brown hair and Kate's aqua eyes she's almost as good at getting out of trouble as she is with getting into it. Thankfully, we're all somewhat immune to the puppy dog eyes now or that girl would never be disciplined.

Jake's phone goes off and he reaches for it, his face scrunching into worry as a whiny Emmett's voice comes through the speaker, loud and clear.

"Man! Come and get your kid. She just flushed a brand new baby blue blanket and clogged up my toilet. Rosie's crying up a storm."

"I'm not crying!" Rose screams in the background, tears heavy in her voice. As I said, hormones, they're a bitch. I only know of one woman who wasn't like that when she was pregnant, and it might have been just sheer luck.

"Just 2 more months, 2 more months until this pregnancy hell is over," Emmett whispers into the phone, fear laced in his voice as if Rose is a psycho in a slasher film and he's the victim, hiding in a closet somewhere. Bella and I start laughing.

Jake hangs up the cell phone and pays Sue, waving to us as he rushes out the door, into the warm summer air of a Seattle evening. It's still somewhat light outside even though it's almost nine.

"See you guys at work!"

My nerves return immediately after he's gone. I feel like there are jittery butterflies shaking all through my body as Sue takes our consent forms, copies our IDs, and prepares the tattoo station.

"You two ready?" She asks with a sweet smile, one that reminds me so much of Esme.

That woman has become a mother to all of us; even Rose and Kate are closer to her than they are their own mothers. I suppose that's understandable. Kate still has issues coming to terms with the fact that her mother is actually her stepmother and Rose's parents live in Nevada so she never sees them. It's nice to have a woman who treats us like her own. Last time we all visited, Esme went so far as to wash out Rose's mouth with dish soap for cussing at the dinner table not once, but four times. Emmett laughed hysterically the whole time until Esme smacked him upside the head and told him to apologize. I stifle a giggle at the memory, nodding my head to the kind woman covered in ink.

I ask Bella to go first so she hops up on the massage-type table and grasps my hand in hers. Sue places the stencil on the outside of her right ankle and positions it in place, removing the paper and leaving a purple outline. Bella's all smiles as the tattoo gun starts and Sue dips it into the black ink, leaning forward to touch it to her skin, Bella squeezes my hand in a death grip.

It takes only a short time and then it's my turn. The station is cleared up and new tattoo gun parts are all taken out of their packaging. I sit on the table as Bella did and Sue places the stencil on the outside of my left ankle. My skin gets clammy, my insides shaking with anticipation as she leans into me and HOLY SHIT!

I clasp onto Bella's forearm with my free hand as the burning hot, scratching pain takes hold, and she chuckles softly

"As I recall you were worse when you got these," I snarl through gritted teeth as I press my fingers into the inked skin of her left forearm. The words 'More Than' stare back at me, running along her scar in elegant script. I know without looking that on the other arm are the words 'My Own Life'. I was there when she got those, gripping onto her hand and at one point, letting her bite my arm to alleviate the pain. She stops laughing, grasping me with both arms, smiling encouragingly at me.

"You all right there?" Sue questions with that same smile and I murmur a yes even though in my head I'm screaming no.

To distract me from the scraping fire of doom, Bella starts to talk and before I know it, we're telling Sue everything. We discuss how we met and tell her about Ms. Penny, Aro, the 'Still Life' courtyard, and how we came to be with our wonderful husbands. We talk and talk and I forget I'm even getting a tattoo.

"I can't believe you went through all that. Wasn't that hard on you both?" Sue questions, wiping down the tattoo with distilled water and spreading on some Vaseline.

"Yeah, but it was worth it," I grin at Bella, freeing her arm and admiring the ink on my ankle that matches perfectly with the ink on Bella's ankle.

It's our middle name, Marie, in a swirling feminine script surrounded by twisting vines and purple flowers. It's everything I wanted and more than I could have asked for.

We pay Sue and walk out of the tattoo shop, jumping into my Audi. It's a short drive to Bella's house, a two story colonial with white siding and green shutters. I walk her inside in hopes of saying hi to my second favorite man in the whole world.

I have to say I'm a little bummed when I walk in the front door and find Edward lying on the couch, head turned towards the television with the man I was hoping to see passed out across his chest, his soft bronze hair wild as his father's and his cute little thumb curled into his mouth.

"He's getting so big," I whisper to Bella and she nods. Little Charlie is growing fast, well on his way to being three soon, matching Edward in everything from personality to looks. I love my nephew to pieces.

Edward's eyes lock on Bella the moment she walks in the door, bright green, exuberant, full of the life that he was missing when I saw him on the street so long ago. He stands up carefully, placing the tiny boy on the couch as he mumbles in his sleep and walks over to kiss Bella and see our new tattoos. We all chat for a while and he laughs when we tell him about catching Jake at the tattoo shop. It's the sound of a baby's cry that finally tears us apart. Bella hurries up the stairs and Edward grins from ear to ear, no doubt seeing the pretty baby girl in his mind who looks just like Bella.

"Go on, I can show myself out," I say, releasing Edward so he can follow Bella and hold the tiny newborn Allison. He's as enamored with his children as he is with Bella, the fact that Ally is 2 months old doesn't wane his excitement at all. He tells me goodbye and grabs Charlie to carry him up the stairs with a smile on his face and his eyes shimmering brilliantly.

While I shut the door behind me I recall again that time when I saw nothing behind those eyes, when he was empty, Bella was closed off from the world, and I was alone and afraid. We were all frozen and still, none of us moving forward. That time is long gone now, sometimes forgotten amidst the haze of our ever-moving lives, but we never forget what it was that changed us, what made us all move and propelled us forward into a frightening unknown...It was the hope for something better, the courage to do what was right, and more than anything else, the promise of love in the end.


End file.
